


Hot Mess (And I'm Falling For You)

by orphan_account



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heartbreak, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Miscommunication, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Pain, Sexual Content, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, Violence, incest is looking hella swag up in here, just lots and lots of pain, more warnings to come, trash prince Hiro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-03-18 04:21:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 104,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3555848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Just for tonight." He can hear himself saying. "Just tonight, Hiro. Just for tonight." </p><p> </p><p>  <em>...You're a fucking liar.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Come On (And Turn Me On)

**Author's Note:**

> Birds_And_The_Bees: WELL THIS WASN’T PLANNED. AT ALL.  
> Annie-Mantic: THIS STARTED AS A FUCKING RP, AND THEN IT FUCKING TOOK OVER.
> 
> It happened. It’s a thing. Good lord, is this a thing. Buckle in kiddy-winks because you are bound for one hell of a ride. Annie is literally god’s gift to my trash self; perfect in every way. We had an absolute BALL writing this, and intend to continue to do so!
> 
> NOTE: We hold no responsibility for Hiro. He’s a little shit who does he own thing. We just watch and make sure he doesn’t do anything embarrassing like trip over his own feet. We did, however, crown him once and future Trash Prince. So yeah. Sorry about that.

[ Come On (And Turn Me On) ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YVw7eJ0vGfM)

* * *

**You were a problem child**

**Been grounded your whole life**

**So now you're running wild...**

**You think you're hot shit, and I love it, I love it**

**-Cobra Starship (Hot Mess)**

* * *

Hiro always stands by the speakers. Always.

It doesn’t matter whether it’s an indoor venue, in a field somewhere, or in the woods around a fuckin’ bonfire; Hiro always makes sure to be within touching distance of where the music was at, the feeling of bass in the air making his teeth ache and his eyes feel like they’re about to tumble down his cheeks.

This was a _good_ idea. This had been a good idea _last_ night, too. Hiro’s thoughts are slower and more muddled than usual, running on a buzz that he hadn’t allowed to lay down and die during the day; Amina had been sending him the same smirks across the lab whenever he looked her way, occasionally flinging gummy bears at the back of his head when coffee wasn’t enough to stave off the crippling hangover he could feel crouching at the back of brain.

She’s sending him the same looks now, her back to his front as their hips rock in time, Hiro’s hands brushing against the flat of her stomach. He can feel one of his other friend’s arms around his shoulders, a nose running up the length of his neck. Completely sandwiched between two of his closest friends.

Hiro _loves_ this. Gets drunk on it, the feeling of power. Of knowing that the reason his two friends hang off him is because if they didn’t, there would be a line a mile long of people trying to touch him, dance with him, get close to him, with wandering fingers and prolonged looks. Free drinks pressed into his hands at the bar accompanied with a number scrawled across the napkin.

Not that Hiro saw any reason in not letting people thinking they could get what they wanted from him; having learnt that eyeliner did _things_ to his eyes ( _thanks for that one, Honey_ ), it was a permanent staple of his clubbing attire, along with coy looks that bordered on shy, the gentle application of fingers against a wrist before he disappears into the crowd, his prize in hand.

Dancing was fun; free drinks were _better_.

Flipping his damp hair from his face with an exaggerated flick of his neck, the seventeen year old ran a hand through it, noting how a girl across the dancefloor actually _bit her lip at him_. People were weird. Smirking, he leans forward enough to blow a cool jet of air into his friends ear, which earns him an elbow to the gut and a laugh lost to the bass.

Yep. This is the perfect way to spend an evening.

Of course, everything is ruined when a hand that doesn’t belong to either of his friends closes around his arm and pulls him out of their orbits with a sharp yank. It happens, sometimes; handsy drunks that think he owes them attention, that they deserve a dance and the touch of his skin.

Hiro immediately feels his hackles rising, bristling like a wildcat. But it’s not a drunken stranger leering at him. It’s his _fucking brother_.

“Tadashi?!” Hiro half-yells over the music, people around them bouncing to the beat as he feels himself practically wilt under the withering glare that his brother is giving him. Seeing him glowering with an expression that’s bordering on parental, Hiro bullies his brain into remembering if Tadashi had come with him, like some form of Christmas miracle. But of course he hadn’t; Tadashi hates anything fun. He’d followed him out, under some misguided need to protect his little brother from the monster that was a good time.

_Again_.

He tries to focus on Tadashi’s lips to understand what he’s saying, eyes-brows furrowing as he raises on his tiptoes to bring his ear closer to Tadashi’s mouth, but to no avail. Gesturing at his ear and shaking his head, Hiro begins to weave through the crowd towards the back where he knows the entrance to the smoking area is.

_Oh fuck. The smoking area_. Hiro knew well where it was; he’s spent half the night out there, a smoking stick caught between the fingers of his left hand, the remainder of said box of cigarettes half jammed into his back pocket. He had to ditch them, before Tadashi saw; screw disappointment, his brother would straight up kill him.

Stepping out into the cool air of the night, Hiro drags his brother away from the crowd and spins on his heel quickly, clasping his hands behind his back and smiling sheepishly.

“Care to repeat what you said inside, bro?” he asks, rocking on his heels to hide his drunken stagger and putting every neuron in his sizable brain to work on not making his words slur.

Tadashi had the nerve to roll his eyes.

“I said that we should go home. And what are you _wearing_?”

“Dude, its make-up,” Hiro answered slowly, his hands on his hips. “Honey hooked me up; I look pretty fuckin’ sweet, huh?” Holding his arms out, Hiro twirls (and _didn’t stumble_ , thank you very much), his t-shirt clinging to his back and chest from the heat, jeans tight and Chuck Taylor’s an eye-watering shade of yellow.

“Honey hooked you up,” Tadashi deadpans, giving Hiro an up-and-down look that was one hundred percent judgmental. “And watch your language.”

Grinning, Hiro hooks a thumb in his belt-loop, his grinning slightly more lop-sided than usual, his teeth glowing in the black-light, making the gap at the front obvious and eye-catching. “Bro, its fine, swear to you on Mochi’s li-”

“ _What are these_?” Hiro definitely doesn’t squeal as Tadashi spins him around and scrambles in his back pocket for the carton of smokes, but it’s certainly a close call. “I’m going to pretend you’re holding these for a friend.”

“Tadashi, wait-” Hiro starts as he turns to face his brother, a hand on his shoulder as a sort of leg-up to try and grab the box from his brother’s hand-- but Tadashi has better reflexes than he does at the best of times, and the box flies in a smooth arc up and over the chain-link fence behind them, gone forever. Hiro huffs harshly.

“Great. Thanks, bro.” Shoving his shoulder, Hiro staggers backwards as the harsh movement making him lose his footing. Tadashi reaches out a hand to steady him, one of his arms still looped low around his waist. “I’m _fine_.” Hiro snaps, stepping away from his older brother.

“You’re such a fuckin’ buzzkill.”

Running his hands roughly through his hair, Hiro roughly jams a hand into his front pocket, pulling a crumpled five-dollar bill from his pocket and waving it in Tadashi’s face. “Here. Your fucking swear-jar money.” He tucks it roughly behind Tadashi’s belt, forcing a smirk on to his face that doesn’t reach his eyes. “And look! You’ve got two dollars change; buy yourself a drink or something, Jesus.”

“Hiro-”

Hiro makes to walk past him, his head held as high as he can get it from his less than impressive stature before pointing a finger at Tadashi. “Look. It’s-” He quickly checked his phone, “-only just after one. I’m not coming home. That’s why you’re here, right? To drag me back home like I’m some sort of…kid.”

Hiro stalks closer, his movements ruined slightly by the fact he was having trouble walking in a straight line. “I’m having fun. Maybe you should try it, if it doesn’t kill you.” Patting his brother’s cheek in a condescending manner, Hiro ducks back into the club, the onslaught of music comforting to his muddled senses. He heard the sound of rattling metal and his brother’s aspirated growl of ‘ _fucking kidding me_ ’ before the door swung shut behind him.

_Damn Tadashi_ , he thought angrily to himself, weaving through the crowd and heading to the bar. He’d just given his brother his cab fare; better to get a couple more drinks and hope to god he’d build up enough of a beer-jacket that he’d make it home without freezing.

Propping his hip against the long bar, he taps his fingers on the slight sticky surface and started counting. _One, two, three, four, fi-_

“Hey cutie, can I get you a drink?” She’s probably five years older than him, with white blond hair, an almost non-existent dress and an almost hungry look in her eyes. She’d do.

Smirking, Hiro lowers his head before looking up through his eyelashes, his arm creeping across the surface of the bar towards her. “You buyin’, babe?”

“I suppose I could,” she giggles, waving the barman over. “What’s your poison, sweetie?”

“Vodka for me,” Hiro purrs. Propping his chin into his palm, he watches the lady (Katie, she mouthed to him as she handed the drink over) as she sips her drink in what she must hope is an alluring way. She was pretty, he supposed. Hiro didn’t really have an eye for appearance, trusting that Honey and his friends from the lab wouldn’t let him go outside if he didn’t at least look presentable.

And then? Well.

He isn’t quite sure what happens. It had gotten to the stage in the night that whilst the room wasn’t spinning around him (yet), it had taken on an almost dream-like lightness.

All he knew was that one second, he had been running his pinky finger across the back of Katie’s hand, the next he feels an arm around his middle, a slightly trembling hand resting comfortably on the spur of his hip pulling him back against a broad and firm chest.

_Seriously?! I do not want to have to deal with this shi-_

Oh no. Please god, no.

God wasn’t listening, the _traitorous bastard_ ; once again, it wasn’t a handsy stranger who Hiro could twist away from if things got a little dicey, a good-natured laugh his weapon of attack and the safe cocoon of his friends his shield.

It’s Tadashi. The only person on the face of the planet Hiro could never even think of raising a sword to.

He seemed to be having a conversation with Katie (or was it Kelly?). She didn’t look very happy with whatever it was he was saying; Hiro felt he had a better chance of sprouting wings and flying away from this unbearable awkwardness than hearing his brother’s usually soft voice over the throbbing pulse of the bass.

Sucking on the brightly coloured straw in his drink, the burst of vodka across his tongue bitter and dry, Hiro attempts to step away from Tadashi’s grip. His brother digs his fingers into his hip.

A warning.

Looking up at him with an indignant glare, Hiro sucks especially hard on his straw, a good fourth of the drink inside disappearing down his throat. _Show you, Tadashi…_

That gets his brother’s attention. Pulling the straw completely out of the cup with his mouth, he allows his lips to curve into a beguiling smirk before twisting the straw until it’s pointing towards his brother’s face before blowing. A stream of warm nicotine-laced breath strikes his brother’s cheek, causing enough of a surprise for Hiro to dance out of his grasp, quickly downing what was left of his drink before something could happen to it….like Tadashi holding it above his head where he couldn’t reach it like a fucking asshole.

"So," he states calmly, catching Kelly/Katie’s eye with a small smile. "I’m sorry about him; clingy, y’know? I’d tell him to back off, but-"

"No need to explain, _sweetheart._ " the woman bites out, looking down her nose at Hiro before snatching her purse up and clambering down from her bar-stool. "Your boyfriend explained everything.” With a sniff, she walked away, hips sashaying, the effect slightly ruined when she stumbled, in part to the fact that her heels added an easy six inches to her height.

Hiro blinks slowly. There’s an almost audible click as he rolls his head on his neck, eyes wide and flashing dangerously at his brother. There’s a smudge in his eye-liner, giving him an almost lopsided appearance.

_Boyfriend_. he mouths, holding Tadashi’s gaze with his own. Fucking. _Boyfriend_.

He pokes Tadashi in the chest. “What.”

Tadashi holds his hands up, tried to speak, “Hiro-”

“ _The fuck_.” A weak shove. His brother trying to catch his wrists, a broken “Will you just-” on his lips.

“Were you _thinking_?!” Fisting his hands into his hair, he watches as Tadashi flounders, trying to give him an excuse.

“I’m not sorry! You’re-”

"I don’t wanna hear it! Shut up and let me think for a second," he snaps, leaning heavily on the bar with his face covered by his hands as he peeks through his fingers. Neon lights flashed off the lined glass bottles behind the counter.

_He told a stranger he was my fucking boyfriend_. Hiro’s frantic brain threw up, his stomach rolling with something other than alcohol. _To what? Stop me from bumming drinks from strangers_? Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Hiro shoots a look over his shoulder at Tadashi, who was hovering awkwardly near him.

_You haven’t won_. The voice in his head was childish, stubborn. _I won’t let you beat me_.

Hiro smirks. He catches the bartender’s attention with a raised hand and asked for two beers.

Nodding, the man ducks under the counter and digs around for the bottles.

Step one; complete. Now for step two.

Sitting heavily onto one of the bar stools, Hiro leans forward until he can reach his brother, threading two fingers in the belt-loops of his jeans and tugging, parting his knees enough that Tadashi is forced to stand between them or fall on him.

"Buy my drink," Hiro mutters, tilting his head as he pulls Tadashi closer with a jerk, his smirk almost fucking dangerous; anger, stubbornness and something else blending into an expression that was almost poisonous.

" _Boyfriend_.”

Tadashi stumbles, his hands shooting out to grip the bar on either side of his brother. Hiro had to lean back to stop them from butting heads, his brother looking confused at the fact that he could probably count Hiro’s eyelashes if he felt like it before his face darkened over like a stormcloud.

Tadashi had never sneered at Hiro once in his life, but this expression was very close.

“And what makes you think I buy drinks for _minor_ s?” he hisses, his eyes narrowed. He glanced around quickly before ducking closer, his lips practically grazing Hiro’s ear. The younger boy gulps, letting out a nervous breath as his fingers twitch from where they’re bunched in Tadashi’s shirt.

“I’m not leaving this club without you, so you keep pushing as many buttons as you want. See where it gets you in the morning, _boyfriend_.” It makes Hiro’s stomach swoop, further muddling his thoughts. _Arousal? At being called his brother’s boyfriend_?

_No. At being called anyone’s boyfriend. No-one’s ever- I mean...That is-_

_Fuck it. I need another drink._

Moving quickly, Hiro ducks under Tadashi’s arm as he splays one hand against his chest to keep him still whilst the other snakes into his pocket, knuckles grazing against his thigh as his fingers closed around the crumpled money he’d thrown at Tadashi previously.

It couldn’t have gone smoother if Hiro had choreographed it; he weaves past his brother and slaps the bill down on the bar, smiling widely to the bartender.

"Sorry! He’s stingy." Beckoning the man forward, Hiro speaks hurriedly. "Listen, it’s my boyfriend’s birthday; we’ve got school tomorrow so he doesn’t think he should drink, but you don’t turn twenty-two everyday, right?"

"Your point, buddy?" the bartender says gruffly, his hand on his hip and a small smirk on his lips.

"Free shot?" Hiro asks hopefully, dipping his eyes down to the guy’s name tag. "C’mon Will, be a sport? Please? I come here all the time, I’m practically a valued customer at this point-“

"Easy, kid." Tapping the bar in his tongue against his teeth, the bartender sighs heavily through his nose. "Just one, okay?”

"You’re brilliant,” Hiro beams, letting his head fall forward for a moment, letting the room settle before reaching out to take the two beer bottles in one hand.

The other comes up to effectively shush his brother, who looks two seconds away from grabbing him by the wrist and physically pulling him from the building.

"I’m not going with you," Hiro says bluntly, holding Tadashi’s eyes despite the urge to look away. Warring with the visible frustration is _disappointment_ , and Hiro can’t take that. Not from Tadashi. "I’m not. If you try dragging me from here, I’ll call the bouncers and get you thrown out.” It’s not an empty threat; Tadashi had been riding the line between protective and controlling for years, and Hiro has finally had enough.

Will taps him on the shoulder. Looking over, he takes the shot from the man’s hand with a genuine smile before holding the liquor between Tadashi and himself.

"You’re going to drink this,” Hiro challenges, holding the tiny glass steady. “And then you are going to have one of these beers. After that, I’m going to dance. You can come with me, or you can stand off to the side and watch like a creeper.”

Tadashi’s looking at him as if he’s just slapped him; complete and utter shock at the ultimatum his little brother has given him. The worse part is that Hiro can already see exactly what’s going to happen next. Tadashi was going to do it; he always did. Hiro knew his brother inside-out, knew exactly how to play him, knew all the cheat-codes and secrets to win. To get his way.

"You take this shot, or I will," Hiro finishes, tilting his body enough that if Tadashi suddenly reaches out, the shot would be safe from spilling. "I mean it, Tadashi. Do what you want, but I’m not going anywhere until this club closes in two hours."

He’s pushing his luck; he can see it in the way Tadashi’s eyes narrow dangerously as they stare him down, flicking away every couple seconds to watch the other people at the bar. What he’s looking for, Hiro doesn’t know or care.

"Well? What do you say, _babe_?” Hiro asks, shaking the shot suggestively at his brother. Slightly too vigorously, as a little spills over his fingers, running a cold line down his wrist. “Crap,” he mutters as he hurries to lick up the dribble, running his tongue up from the ball of his wrist to the tip of his thumb and sucking it into his mouth momentarily before looking back at Tadashi, the nail resting on his lower lip.

Tequila. Tadashi _hated_ Tequila. Despite this, he plucks the tiny cup from Hiro’s fingers, throwing the shot back like it was something he did every day. With his head tipped back and his eyes closed to the burn of the alcohol, Hiro can pretend that Tadashi’s not furious with him, if the set of his shoulders are anything to go by.

He lifts one of the beers to his own lips and takes a more than generous sip. Placing it on the bar and holding the other out to his brother with a shit-eating grin, Hiro is surprised as he is jerked forward again, the beer tumbling from his limp fingers and bouncing on the laminated floor. It fizzed sadly.

"Tadashi, you tool! I paid for that!” Hiro grumbles, jogging slightly to keep up with his brother’s strides. His head is lowered, hunkered down between his shoulders, which seem too wide, too tense for Hiro’s liking. “Hey, dude?” he tries, squeezing Tadashi’s fingers.

He may as well have tried to make his brother levitate, the level of response he receives. Tadashi weaves through the crowd with more dexterity than Hiro thought he possessed, curling around a group of five girls who were screaming and jumping happily, past three guys having a drunken dance off until they were in the heart of the floor.

Hiro fells the tension leave his shoulders, the vibrations of the floor due to a hundred or so stamping feet crawling up the back of his legs, the bass making his heart feel like it changes the way it’s beating so that he can live the music rather than just listen to it.

His moment of contentment is cut short by Tadashi curling his arms once more around his middle, pulling him close at the sudden crush of people. Hiro attempts to put his hands out, one landing awkwardly on Tadashi’s shoulder whilst the other lights on his bicep. Hiro opened his mouth, a complaint sitting pretty on the end of his tongue when Tadashi’s face looms close, far too close _tooclosetooclose_ , his eyes dark with anger and frustration, the parting of his lips slowed down in Hiro’s mind, and it’s like he can almost hear the wet sound of them parting as his big brother licks his lips and what the hell is this all about-

And then he starts talking.

“How would you feel if you’d walked in here tonight, huh?” he hisses directly into Hiro’s ear, his words barbed, aiming straight and true to the soft parts of Hiro that can bruise, can bleed, especially when it’s Tadashi holding the knife. “Looking for me and there I was, wrapped around two people? Smokes in my back pocket? Playing off women just to get a free drink? Damn it Hiro, just— explain to me how _any of this_ is even _remotely attractive to you_ , because I’m hitting a blank, here.”

Hiro feels his mouth open, gaping blankly over Tadashi’s shoulder, his body bent backwards in an elegant arch due to the fervent way Tadashi is whispering into his ear, his hands clenching and relaxing spasmodically against his hips, his fingers almost kneading the skin there and Hiro is hot, too hot and guilty and drunk and oh god Tadashi-

He slides his hand up from Tadashi’s shoulder to the back of his neck, resting there for a moment before pushing his brother back enough so he can look up at him, eyes wide. Biting his lip, he brings their foreheads together. He sighs.

"I’m sorry," Hiro whispers, eyes fluttering open to see his brothers zoned in on his lips. Probably to read them. “It’s just…they like me. And I like them. They’re my friends. And this…this is fun, Tadashi. I enjoy this. I suppose…maybe a bit too much.”

He doesn’t know how to explain to Tadashi that it isn’t peer-pressure that makes him haunt clubs; it’s the rush to finally catch up, to stay with the friends that he’s made who he loves, who are fun and exciting and _experienced_ , in a way that he isn’t because they’ve had their trial in the shallow end and he’s just dived, dived straight to the bottom of an endless deep and tried to keep afloat.

He’s found a place to fit; where his smiles bring kindness, laughter and attention. He knows he looks good, and that it was important. He knows that when you were hot, you went outside where people were smoking; joining them gave him a reason to go there. He knows the rules to this world…at least, he thought he did.

Smiling gently, Hiro stares into his brothers eyes, rocking his hips in time to the beat, feeling Tadashi’s hands rise and fall with his movements. He keeps his movements gentle and coaxing, at least he hopes they are. He knows that this isn’t Tadashi’s favourite past-time.

" _Don’t think_ ," he whispers, his fingers twitching at the back of Tadashi’s neck, the tips of his fingers dipping up into his brother’s hairline. His other hand skates down his brother’s arm to move his hand more firmly over the jut of his hip, rocking the crest of bone into Tadashi’s palm. " _Eyes on me_."

Hiro feels rather than sees Tadashi relax against him; feels the sigh against his face, how his shoulders lower and loosen beneath his hands. Tadashi bumps his nose against his, making Hiro smile softly as his eyes close for a moment.

It’s…nice. Nicer than he thought it would be, if he was completely honest with himself; not that he thought it would be awkward (alcohol had robbed him of that particular sense), but the fact that he was dancing with Tadashi, his best friend, his brother, his _soul-mate_ … it just makes the whole thing some much sweeter.

Not that Tadashi is much of a dancer; he’s fighting the beat, too busy looking at his feet to let the music do its job and move him. Hiro allows himself an honest smile, tipping his head back so he can better enjoy the sensation of Tadashi’s fingers in his hair, gentle (too gentle) hands tilting his head to the side so his brother can nose at the skin of his cheek. Hiro fists his hands tighter in his shirt as a particularly strong tingle raced up his spine.

It was all going perfectly…until Tadashi had to open his big mouth and ruin it by cutting Hiro’s legs well and truly out from under him.

“I don’t think they see how beautiful you really are, Hiro.”

Hiro’s eyes shoot open, pupils dilating to pinpricks as the words his brother said are breathed against his skin. He has his own hands loosely around his brother’s wrists, his fingers playing up and down his arms.

He seeks out Tadashi’s eyes, his mouth falling open into a soft ‘oh’ of surprise. Hiro could tell at a glance if his brother was lying, or wasn’t sure about something.

He saw one hundred percent conviction there, in the brown so close to his own. He believes it with his whole heart.

“I _know_ they don’t,” Tadashi whispers with a soft smile, holding Hiro’s gaze. He feels his own lips quirk up, his face still open and soft, a clear sheen of tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

"But you can?" he asks softly, more breath than word against his brother’s lips, almost touching, almost…

The beat changes; the tempo rising, people jumping up and down around them and shattering the carefully crafted bubble that separates them from the rest of the world.

It’s a good song. One of Hiro’s favourites. And he can fucking dance to it.

Sighing, Hiro leans back as his eyes refocus into sharp points of brown. He smirks at Tadashi as he steps into his space as close as he dares, their chests brushing.

"You said you’d dance," Hiro whispers into his brother’s ear, hands on his shoulders as he balances carefully on his toes. Before his brother can question it (and before he could lose his nerve) he turns so his back is to Tadashi’s front, taking his brother’s larger hands and placing them on his stomach, riding as low as he can get them. He turns his face into Tadashi’s, his lips brushing his ear; " _So dance with me_."

The bass drops and so does Hiro, letting his knees bend a little before dragging himself back up slowly, using his brothers body as a wall to push against. This is fucking crazy, his thoughts shriek as he raises a hand to cradle the back of his brother’s head, bringing it closer over his shoulder so he could nose the skin of his jaw as his hair falls into his eyes. He put an extra wiggle into his movements.

_Maybe. But I don’t care. I don’t fuckin’ care, not tonight._

...Still. Hiro has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his giggles in as Tadashi clutches desperately at his body; seemingly torn between trying to follow his movements or whether to just hold them together. Their hips keep rolling in a pantomime of acts that Hiro’s never thought of before and…it’s frightening. Like looking down from a high place, the wind at his back and no parachute.

But it’s not the naked wind pushing him forward into an uncontrolled spiral, it’s his brother. It’s _Tadashi_ , and he’d never let him fall. Never.

The comforting huff of his brother breathing into his hair, hands running lazily up and down his sides, catching his shirt just enough that his pinky grazes the skin of hips on every upstroke…he knows there’s nothing to be worried about. There’s nothing to be afraid of.

_So what is he waiting for?_

Hiro turns lazily in the circle of his brothers arms, sliding his palms up over his shoulders and letting them hang over his back, one burying in his brother’s hair whilst the other Is careful to smooth the collar of his shirt. He can feel Tadashi looking at him as he sways gently, his brothers hands almost burning through his thin t-shirt even as he manages to squirm his pinky and ring finger up underneath it, his fingers tracing crooked lines across his back.

He can hear the tilt in his head and the concern in his eyes as clearly as if Tadashi had spoken aloud, so he looks up with wide eyes, make-up nowhere near as perfect as it had been when he’d first gotten there; the dark smudges under his eyes make him looked wrecked….

His eyes dip down to Tadashi’s lips before coming back up to his eyes. His brother licks them subconsciously.

"…’ _Dashi._ " Hiro murmurs, knowing that he can’t hear but also knowing that there’s no word Tadashi knows better than the way his own name looks on Hiro’s tongue…

It’s just a little pressure, not even a proper kiss, Hiro thinks. He’s got nothing to compare it to. His eyes slide open. He wasn’t even aware that he closed them. Tadashi looks like he’s just been punched; Hiro’s certain he looks the same.

There was nothing…wrong. It didn’t feel like a mistake, a hated two syllable word he can see rattling behind Tadashi’s teeth.

No. It could fucking stay there.

Tipping his brother’s face down ( _too tall to reach, come down to me, don’t leave me down here alone_ ) with his fingers splaying across his jaw, Hiro leans back in, this time aware of the second his eyes close, Tadashi’s shuttering as well before all his senses are consumed by _Tadashi Tadashi Tadashi…_

Soft, wet presses. He can almost hear the way their lips cling together, the alcohol smoothing the way but oh god Hiro didn’t think he’d need liquid courage, not for this, not for the natural way he lowers himself back onto the balls of his feet and Tadashi follows like a drowning man chases the shore, his hands coming up to frame his face before tilting his head to the side to allow their noses to slide together and there, like that, everything suddenly clicks as he staggers forward, pulled by a force stronger than gravity, the magnetic pull of his own brother’s skin demanding him to crowd closer, the hand in his hair tightening, drawing a gasp from his brother and Hiro flicks his tongue against Tadashi’s lower lip, just a kitten lick-

He whines as Tadashi pulled away, the brown of his eyes a millimetre ring around blown-out pupils, his breathing ragged. Hiro raises a hand to his lips, tracing their shape, wondering if he looks as ruffled as Tadashi does, if his brother liked it, what he was thinking-

Oh, but he knew what Tadashi was thinking. He shook his head slowly, his heart hammering.

"Don’t say it," he whispers, begging, “I know what you’re thinking…’Dashi, please…”

_Please don’t lie to me. Please don’t tell me this isn’t want you want._

There's a terrible, heart-stopping moment where Hiro thinks that Tadashi's going to bolt, his hands falling from where they'd been holding his face, his feet taking two unsteady steps backwards and Hiro can feel a dead weight settling somewhere in the centre of his chest because _please...Tadashi, don't_ -

A hand closes around his wrist, pulling him gently through the crowd, slowly at first; as if his brother is afraid he'll go toppling to the ground (which wouldn't be an unfair assumption to make) if he rushes him. But his steps soon pick up in speed, his stride becoming longer and longer until Tadashi's practically running for the exit, Hiro trailing dejectedly behind.

He just... he just didn't understand. Tadashi had kissed him back, had felt it in the insistent press of his lips, the way his fingers had rested behind his ears as he'd cupped his face and it had been _everything_ , his _everything_ in front of him giving him something he'd never once entertained for a moment until it had been offered, and the prospect of a life without it ever again...

Hiro snaps out of his reverie as Tadashi rounds a corner, his grip around Hiro's wrist increasing in pressure. This was the back of the building. What-

Tadashi releases him when they reach the dead-end of an alleyway, two large green dumpsters providing a shadowed corner free of debris. Rubbing his wrist, Hiro looks up and tries to catch his brother's eye, to ask what was going on, why was he doing this, why did he-

Any attempt at speech dies in his throat as Tadashi suddenly steps forward-- herding him back. Step by step until he’s pressing up against the cold brickwork, his hands splayed wide on either side of his body. He keeps getting caught up in the way his brother is looking at him; eyes darkening as the world disappears from view, hidden in the way Tadashi surrounds him.

"Tadashi, I-" his brother shushes him gently, a hand reaching to cup his cheek. Tadashi was staring at him with such intensity...

It’s easy to lift his own hand, covering Tadashi’s to hold it in place. Shivering, he presses his cheek into the touch, nuzzling into it as Hiro watches his brother; gaze unguarded and so so vulnerable. He could feel himself melting under the eyes that had watched him from birth, but the heat that flooded them was so new and-

"Just for tonight." Hiro blinked, inhaling sharply. "Just tonight, Hiro. Just for tonight."

The sudden urgency behind Tadashi's kiss leaves him breathless. His brother cups his face fully, once again tilting his head slightly so they can slot together, Hiro's arms coming up to wrap around his brother's neck and bringing him closer. He’s pushing against him with chest and hips and heart and Tadashi is giving as much as Hiro is offering, the wet sound of their mouths almost obscene in the silence.

_Too damn tall_ , Hiro thinks to himself again, raising himself on his toes and pushing up as Tadashi's arms wrap fully around his waist. Their bodies come flush together and Hiro breaks away gasping, Tadashi's name an exhaled breath as he begins to pepper his jaw with kisses-

"'Dashi....Tadashi, please." Hiro manages to pant out, his fingers threading through his brother's hair and pulling and Tadashi fucking growls, sending a pulse of heat lancing down Hiro's spine to settle somewhere in his gut. The shock only lasts a few moments, before Tadashi’s bending his knees and placing his hands on the back of his thighs and fucking _lifting him up the wall_ -

Yelping, Hiro scrambles to grab Tadashi's shoulders from his new height even as Tadashi's moving back in, catching Hiro's mouth with a breathy moan that does things to Hiro. Whilst he may not have any experience past this, he's going to give as good as he gets, flicking his tongue cautiously against his brother's lower lip-- to which the elder opens beautifully, catching Hiro's lip between his teeth and tugging it gently. The soft pop it makes when Tadashi lets go is filthy in the silence.

For a moment, they pause. Barely any space between them, Tadashi looks him over as Hiro does his best to stop himself from squirming. That look…

"...Beautiful," Tadashi breathes, pressing their foreheads together. Hiro closes his eyes, chest tight and breathing hitching. With his legs wrapped tightly around his brother's waist to keep him in place, Tadashi has free reign to card a hand through Hiro's hair, pressing light kisses to his forehead; eyes; nose.

Biting down on a whine, Hiro attempts to catch the other's lips, revelling in the deep groan that bounces up and out of Tadashi's throat as he wraps an arm under his ass and jostles him, probably with the intention of making Hiro more comfortable.

What he does instead is line their hips up, a telling hardness pressing and twitching against Hiro's own.

" _Shit._ " He breathes out, looking up at his brother from under his eyelashes. Tadashi stills; that look of fear is on his face again, his grip weakening as if he’s contemplating putting Hiro down. "Hey. Look at me."

Gripping his chin, Hiro coaxes Tadashi forward, his kiss soft. Words softer. "...Just for tonight, right?"

"...Yeah," Tadashi murmured, his eyes heavily lidded, his lips gravitating to Hiro's as he breathes out heavily through his nose.

It doesn't take long for the previous heat to return, that same urgency that had flavoured their kisses almost overbearing as each action is rough and hurried. Hiro knew that Tadashi would bear crescents in the shape of his nails across his shoulders tomorrow- and he didn't care, undulating his body his entire body forwards. The dormant heat in his gut keeps sparking, particularly when Tadashi can’t seem to stop groaning, long and low into his neck. Hiding his face as his own hips pushed forward, his thrusts slow and measured, even as they began to unravel his brother-

"'Dashi," Hiro whimpers as he clings to him desperately, body rising and falling with his brother's restrained movement. It was _torture_ ; this slow pace that Hiro knew wasn't enough. "'Dashi, I can't, I-"

"Shh, shh.." He soothes, pushing Hiro's sweat-soaked fringe from his forehead and out of his eyes. "I'm here."

"I'm _hot_ , 'Dashi," Hiro murmurs, his hips twitching desperately for something, anything other than the rough friction of his jeans. "I need...Tadashi, I need-"

"I'm here. I'm right here." Pressing kisses against his panting mouth and using the wall to keep his brother in place; Tadashi’s voice remains soothing even as his hands attempted to pop the button of Hiro’s jeans. They’re shaking. "I've got you, Hiro."

_I've got you too_. He watches his brother through lidded eyes as Tadashi licks a wet stripe up his own palm before reaching past the waistband of Hiro's underwear, the flick of his wrist sharp and fast from the very first instant.

Hiro can't help the high whines he’s making, attempting once to bite down on his hand to deaden the sound until Tadashi saw and pulls his fingers away, replacing it with own mouth and tongue. He could feel his brother's thrusts increasing in speed, the pace harsh as Hiro felt his back being rubbed raw against brick, a slight sting at his shoulder blade easily overlooked when Tadashi was touching him like that, his own name chasing the tails of moans as he moved his hand just so and oh god-

"Tadashi, shit, like that, _like that._ " Hiro babbled against his brothers lips. He sounded almost pained as Tadashi increased the speed of his hand, sweat and heat easing the way. Hiro could hear how wet he was, could chance a look and see the slick running over the top of his brother's fist...

"Hiro, look at me." His head snaps up, eyes glazed and mouth open as he desperately tries to fill his lungs with air because they were clogged with something else, something nameless and vast, the same colour as Tadashi’s eyes, leaving a metallic taste under his tongue that was easily overshadowed by the taste of his brother… who took one look at him and cursed appreciatively, as out of breath as him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Tadashi groaned in a low voice, leaning forward to claim Hiro’s lips as his hips rutted erratically against him, small aborted grunts lost in Hiro’s mouth as the boy felt a sudden euphoric _seizing_. Of blinding white light and a free-fall as his limbs clenched painfully tight before releasing, clear fluid coating the palm of Tadashi’s hand. Tadashi coaxes his younger brother through it, his hand gentling in its motions. He buried his face in Hiro’s hair and pants softly as Hiro’s grip began to loosen, all his limbs rubbery and soft.

After an eternity, Tadashi carefully places him back on his feet, tucking him away and zipping his jeans before stuffing his soiled hand into the pocket of his own.

Hiro took a shaking step forward, then another, until his forehead was pressed against Tadashi’s breastbone. He fists his brother’s shirt and trembles. Curling his free arm around his back, Tadashi squeezes him briefly before reaching down to take his hand, threading his larger fingers through Hiro’s thin digits.

“Come on. Let’s get you home.”

Hiro didn’t remember much of the walk back. Tadashi made sure that he didn’t walk into any roads or stationary vehicles, but aside from that Hiro couldn’t remember if they’d shared a single word on their way.

Tadashi had knelt when they’d gotten back to the Lucky Cat, helping untie his shoelaces like he used to when Hiro was small. Putting a hand to the small of his back, he guides him through the empty café, weaving around tables and chairs before ushering him up the stairs, through the flat and to their room.

“Wait here, okay?” He says gently as he helped Hiro sit on the end of his bed, ruffling his hair before disappearing back down to the kitchen for a tall glass of water. “Drink this.”

Groaning, Hiro does as he’s told, draining half the glass before pushing it into his brother’s hands. Flopping back on the bed, arms thrown wide and stomach rolling, he let his head roll to the side, watching Tadashi push back the partition to his side of the room. He sighed as he pulled his phone from his back pocket, plugging it in at the wall. The screen lights up his face; he looked tired, haggard. Old.

“’Dashi,” Hiro mumbles, attempting to roll onto his side and push himself to his feet. There were soft footfalls before his brother’s face floated into view. He looked even worse close up.

“What’s up, Hiro? D’you need to throw up? I’ll get the buc- _ummph_.” Hiro sighed heavily through his nose, the sound of their lips parting a few moments later very loud in the silence of the house. Tadashi bites his lip, his teeth leaving little indentations that shine white before flooding red.

“…Go to sleep, okay, buddy? Everything’ll be better in the morning.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart. Sleep now, okay?” A soft kiss was pressed to the crown of his head before gentle hands guided him back onto his sheets, helping to tuck a blanket around his shoulders. Through bleary eyes, Hiro watches as Tadashi takes a seat the end of his own bed, his shoulders slumped before he covered his face with his hands, leaning forward over his knees.

He looked distressed. That was a cause for concern, but Hiro was certain it could wait until morning. Definitely until the morning.

Hiro fell asleep with no regrets, and Tadashi? Tadashi didn’t sleep at all.

* * *

Eyyyyy you can follow my trash piece of ass right [ here ](http://lockandkeyblade.tumblr.com/) , and you can find my DELICIOUS co-author right [ here ](http://www.annie-mantic.tumblr.com)

Shower her with love. She birthed Hot Mess!Hiro and she’s still not over it.


	2. I Love The Way You Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How he’s keeping so collected in comparison is beyond him. Hiro’s eyes are soft, showing a clear sense of understanding. He’s so soft; always has been. The little try hard, always pretending to be stronger than he actually is.
> 
> “It’s going to be okay, Tadashi,” Hiro promises softly, ducking forward to try and meet his brother’s eyes. “I promise.”
> 
>  
> 
> _No. No it's not._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annie here! Since this is a Tadashi POV chapter, it has been mainly penned and edited by my gorgeous co-author, Miss Birds; please give her all of the love you have, as this chapter is a fucking _beast._
> 
> We're both confident that you'll all hate us at the end of the page. 
> 
> We're not sorry.
> 
> ALSO: For those of you who haven't noticed, each chapter title is linked to the song it's taken from. We encourage you to take a listen.
> 
> These songs are more than good, after all.

[ I Love The Way You Lie ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=55byw2NSuPI)

* * *

**I can't tell you what it really is,**

**I can only tell you what it feels like.**

**And right now there's a steel knife in my windpipe...**

**\- A Skylit Drive (Love The Way You Lie)**

* * *

It wasn’t a good night. Not at all. Laying on top of his covers, he found his gaze drifting towards the divider more often than not, painfully aware that on the other side his brother was sleeping off the ill effects of too much alcohol and dancing…and other things.

God, the other things.

Every time Tadashi had tried to close his eyes, he’d seen Hiro. Drinking, dancing- clinging to his shoulders and gasping into his ear, the hazy look in his eyes and the way he hadn’t been able to shut his mouth when Tadashi had undone his pants and-

At five, he’d forced himself out of bed, surprised Aunt Cass with a nice, warm pot of coffee (as if that somehow soothed the guilt chewing through his system like viscous acid) and left the house for the day, shutting the cafe door with a sense of finality before turning and walking down the street.

And walking. And walking.

Now and again he looked up from his thoughts and realised he’d strayed from the familiar, focusing, if only for a short while, on getting himself back to busy streets and crowded roads before losing himself again. His mind swam with thoughts that seemingly had no end; looped and twisted and converged into hours and hours of meaningless platitudes.

Okay, so he’d given his little brother a hand job. Okay, Hiro had been drunk. _But,_ he was also… almost legal, and had definitely been consenting... or did the last point completely invalidate that? Good god he’s _seventeen, how could he just lose control over-_

Tadashi has to go home eventually. He just...doesn’t want to, staring at the cafe for a long time before moving towards it. He waits until Aunt Cass has finished cleaning up for the night and she’s turned all the lights off, before going upstairs. He lets himself in carefully. His mind’s a mess, and his body not doing much better as he tries not to collapse when his body protests the trip up the stairs in a very violent fashion.

 _Hiro._ They live in the same house; share the same damn _bedroom._ They’re going to have to talk.

Hiro.

Maybe he should shower first; Tadashi feels like he’s made of sweat, his hair matted against the back of his neck and his cheeks. His red shirt is darker than usual, clinging to his skin. He probably smells like he’s been through a sewer. Probably looks it, too. 

Hiro.

And really? He’s tired too. Wouldn’t it make sense just to talk to him tomorrow, when he’s had some time to recover, some time to be refreshed?

Hiro-

Is laying on his bed when he comes in, staring up at the ceiling. If Tadashi turned around right now, he wouldn’t see him. He could leave. He could wait.

But he can’t. He just can’t.

“...Hiro.”

“H-hey, bro.” Hiro looks like he’s been caught out doing something unspeakable as he slowly sits up, wincing when he leans back against the headboard. He hisses quietly under his breath as he relaxes against it, holding his shoulder in an awkward fashion.

God, his shoulders. His _back._ Of course, he was probably completely scratched up... and the monster inside him twists unpleasantly. It _likes_ that.

Tadashi doesn’t. And he doesn’t like the way Hiro refuses to meet his eyes, either; he's staring somewhere around the region of his knees, like he’s deemed his eyes far too unsafe to look at.

Curling his arms around his drawn-up legs and leaning forward enough so his back wasn't resting against the wooden frame, Hiro cleared his throat, his body language entirely too nervous. Another strike against Tadashi; the supposed older brother. “Y-you’ve not been around much today, man.”

“Yeah...yeah, I uh, I took a walk.” For close to twelve hours, but he doubts Hiro’s been awake long enough to know that. Running a hand through his hair, Tadashi shifts from side to side, eyeing Hiro’s shoulders and wondering if he trusts himself enough.

...Of course he does. It’s his _little brother._ He’d never-

Never hurt him.

“Fuck.” The word escapes unbidden, and Tadashi can’t exactly play it off like it wasn’t something intentional, something he meant wholeheartedly. So he rushes his words, fingers playing anxiously in the air before dropping to his sides. “Let me have a look, yeah? Just….get it cleaned up, a little.”

Hiro blinks. “Um, sure.”

Grabbing the bottom of his shirt, he lifts the garment up over his head and throws it to the floor. He shivers slightly at the cold air. He crawls forward and sits on the edge of the bed so that his brother has space to get in behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. Only then does he even chance looking at him. Tadashi’s throat feels so tight.

Tadashi _hates_ this. Nothing about this is okay; not the way Hiro hesitates in his actions, not the way he’s watching him carefully, like he’s in contact with some dangerous animal. Clearing his throat, Tadashi crosses over to his side of the room first, pulling a first aid kit out of his drawer. There’s every chance that he’s going to need some antiseptic.

No wonder Hiro’s looking at him like that.

Getting onto the bed behind him isn’t awkward so much as it is painful. His eyes are attracted to the curve of Hiro’s waist, first and foremost. He has bruises there; small, light bruises in the shape of fingerprints. Did Hiro even notice them?

His shoulder blades are worse. So much worse. It’s a struggle to keep his expression neutral, but Tadashi manages, as best he can. He hopes. “This might sting a little…”

"...I think it looks worse than it is. Really."

 _Really._ He can be as careful as he wants, but in the end, the cream is going to burn. Tadashi takes his time with it; process slow, fingers shaking. Tadashi hopes- Lord, he hopes, that Hiro doesn’t notice that little fact. “I’m so sorry….” 

".....It's okay, 'Dashi." Hiro's voice is soft, tilting his head to the side just enough so he can catch his brothers eyes; a small, nervous smile on his face. It breaks his heart. But also gives him the confidence to say what needs to be said, keeping his touch as careful and steady as possible.

“No...no it’s not. Hiro, what I did last night, it-” A pause. Tadashi hesitates on his words far longer than he wants to, far longer than he should. “It shouldn’t have happened. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

He’s Hiro’s big brother. And he’s going to look out for him properly, from now on. Not do...this.

Hiro feels very still under his fingers.

"A...mistake, then."

"...Yeah. A mistake.”

Hiro bows his head forwards, staying silent for a long time. He uses that time to make sure his back is as tended for as he can manage with just some _stupid cream,_ trying to ignore the tension he can feel in his shoulders. If Hiro’s upset, it’s all his fault in the first place; his trust had been broken when he wasn’t in any condition to deal with it, when he was drunk and vulnerable. Simple as that.

"...You're right. It's my fault; looks like I drank too much, huh bro?"

“No.” His voice comes out sharp, almost before Hiro even finishes the question. No- no, it’s not Hiro’s fault. Not even slightly. Taking a deep breath, Tadashi forces himself to relax. “No, it’s not your fault. I should’ve known better.”

He tries to think of something else to say, anything at all to take that strain out of Hiro’s figure, but all that happens is his lips move uselessly for several moments before he’s shaking his head, leaning back with a sigh. “Look…. try not to think about it too hard, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

"I'm...gonna go shower, dude.” Abrupt, cutting the conversation short.” I'll keep my back dry and stuff, y'know, thanks for the help I owe you one man-" Hiro’s already up and moving before Tadashi can even get a word in edgewise, the words a rapid fire from his lips as he scoops a towel off the back of his desk-chair and makes a beeline for the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a sharp _snap._

_Well, that went well._

“...Take care of yourself.” His words are quiet, but even if they weren’t, Tadashi’s not entirely sure Hiro would take any stock of them. He needs to go have a shower himself, actually; should wait for Hiro to be done, clean himself up.

But that would mean staying in here. Sitting on Hiro’s bed and...staring down at the rumpled set of clothes his little brother was wearing last night.

Forget it.

He sleeps downstairs that night, on the couch. And in the morning, he’s showered and out of the house before Hiro even begins to stir.

\------

For two brothers who are usually caught up in the thick of each other’s lives, the following weeks are… difficult. For Tadashi, one might even liken it to hell; that first week, when they can’t look at each other. Can hardly speak to each other; can’t even pass the salt over the table. He stays downstairs on the couch for five days in a self-imposed exile, and for the most part he doesn’t sleep.

How the hell can he even think of sleeping at a time like this, really?

And to his credit, Hiro….is trying, he supposes. Trying not to flinch away from him, trying to meet his gaze. He takes another day off school before getting back into it all, and there’s a stark, guilty relief there; now he’s graduated, Tadashi can stay home and work on his patents. He can get Baymax out into the world, once he’s found a company willing to deal with his non-negotiable terms (he’s _not_ a weapon, he’s _not_ a replacement for doctors when it comes to serious injuries...No, his soft robotics system is staying exactly the way it is).

The fact that Hiro starts coming home smelling of stale smoke is a concern, however. The ashtray that seemingly finds its home on his side of the garage is also something to talk about; eventually. Not now, but eventually. Things aren’t quite there yet. They both need a little time to get back into the swing of things, to adjust to it all, to everything that’s happened-

Hiro's going to start going out again, he knows it. He’s going to start stumbling up the stairs at the break of dawn, start missing school because of it. Another concern he can’t speak about. Another strong strike against his name; something his anxiety can’t let go of- and yet he still doesn’t do a thing. Hiro goes straight to the club from school most days, he thinks. The first day he actually comes home first to change, all Tadashi does is watch as he strides right out the doors again, packet of smokes sticking out of his back pocket.

Tonight is just another one of those nights. For hours, he debates just going after him. Showing up at the club, getting him home. Cleaning off that silly makeup that makes Hiro’s eyes far too large, tucking him into bed and getting him to have a good night’s sleep, for once. Just for once.

There’s no excuse for why he’s just lying in his bed at 3am, staring at the ceiling, instead of going to do just that. No excuse...aside from being afraid.

Tadashi realises that he’s a terrible brother for it; he knows that. There’s not a single part of him that doesn’t feel ashamed, doesn’t want to be doing something. Honestly, he just wants to pull Hiro close and promise him that it’s all okay, because they’ll work it out, they’ll forget it eventually-

Casting a hand over his eyes to block out the lights from the street. Too scared of his own lack of self-control to even do the right thing. That’s rich.

Since when did he become this person?

To his own surprise, Tadashi does eventually fall asleep. He knows it only when he slowly finds himself on the verge of returning to consciousness; soft and warm, the stress of the past few weeks failing to find him. He can hear movement; shambling steps across the room. Hiro’s absolutely wrecked, and the fact that he seems to gravitate to Tadashi’s bed instead of his own isn’t a surprise. Too wrecked to even figure that much out, the knucklehead.

The quiet mumbling of Hiro talking to himself isn’t a surprise either. He does that; drunk or not, talking to himself is just how Hiro organises himself; consolidating his thoughts out loud, as if to see what they taste like when they’re in the air.

The bed dips a little as a new weight is introduced to it; his pillow does the same, after a moment. Tadashi’s brow furrows, but that’s not enough to pull him from his daze, not quite yet.

What does is soft lips meeting his own again and again, stale breath exhaling slowly against his mouth. The smell is terrible; bad enough that he can taste it... but it reminds him of that night. Of Hiro. Slowly, his own lips part; move against the ones so fervently attached to his own, change it from something a little sloppy to something more slow. More heartfelt.

 _Hiro._ He opens his eyes and there he is, irises blown, barely keeping himself upright.

God…. He doesn’t mean to, but he groans softly, half in tired protest, and half because that image just won’t leave his mind, stuck there so solidly he’s hallucinating it in his half-awake state. Slowly, he cracks his eyes open, greeted by the sight of Hiro, dressed to the nines and bathed in moonlight.

Hey," Hiro breathes, his lips parted in a small smile. It's honest, soft, emotionally charged and telling in a way that Tadashi can’t quite grasp.

“Hey yourself.” His voice is groggy; not all there yet, he’s finding it difficult to have a problem with Hiro’s closeness, with that smile. That smile was made for him, really- it softened every sharp angle to Hiro’s face, making him look all too young under the eyeliner.

He huffs out something of a chuckle, clumsily cupping Hiro’s cheek, instead of managing the light pat he’d intended on. “You smell...awful. Gotta stop smoking, babe…”

It doesn’t even occur to him that the term of endearment isn’t part of the norm until it’s out of his mouth. Hiro seems to chuckle it away, though; almost a _giggle,_ before moving more comfortably onto the bed, lying down across Tadashi's torso, his feet kicking idly in the air. He noses at his brothers skin, fingers playing with the neck of the stretched out henley Tadashi usually wore to bed.

He’s so drunk. Tadashi’s smile is crooked, lazily watching as his brother curls up on him, practically preening like a cat. That wasn’t unusual; in the early mornings, when he’d finished some invention or another...he used to do this all the time. Come curl up, tell his brother all about it. His newest creation, ready for the world.

It feels just like that, even with Hiro nosing at him. Pressing his lips to his jawline, murmurs low and playful. Tadashi’s hand shifts; from cupping his cheek to running gently through his hair, trying to ease out some of that excitable energy. It’s late, Hiro needs to sleep.

"Don't judge me," Hiro muttered, his tone light and joking even as he presses a chaste kiss to the hinge of his brother’s jaw. "I've been stressed recently. With school, I mean." The next kiss, just above the sensitive skin of his neck, brings about an involuntary swallow, a slight shift in his breath. His fingers slow in their journey through thick black hair; less of an affectionate massage, and more of a caress.

"It's not that bad, right?" He tilts his head, looking down at his brother, less than an inch between them. His smile is mischievous, his eyes dark, the pupils blown wide like he's high on something. It's a look that suits him.

“Oh, it’s pretty bad.” Tadashi disagrees, smile widening. “Not awful, but pretty bad. You gonna head off to bed soon? You have school…You should sleep.”

Hiro hums, breathy as his brother's fingers smooth through his hair. His eyes go half-lidded, hand creeping from the safe place at Tadashi's shoulder to following the thrum of his heart up his neck.

"I don't need to go to school and I don't need sleep," He whispers, rubbing his nose up against Tadashi's, his breath warm and nicotine laced.

Things take a turn for intimate very quickly.

"...I need you to kiss me."

That? That’s enough to prompt Tadashi into realising the mistake he’s made, enough to have him shifting, only to freeze when Hiro’s hand gently curves around the back of his neck. Their noses bump together, lips only a fraction apart- and it’s the alleyway all over again, the dance floor. Hiro takes up all of his attention and more, distracting him to the point of thoughtlessness, until he can’t quite breathe past the tight sensation in his chest.

He has to be this beautiful, doesn’t he? He just _has_ to be.

It’s on his mind when he leans up that this kiss is going to be quick. Quick, and entirely to pander to Hiro’s drunken state of mind; a sweetness to prompt him to get himself ready for sleep, a piece of affection to help him relax and calm down, settle and wander off, content.

But Tadashi also knows that there’s no way Hiro’s going to let that happen. He knows, even as their lips touch, as he kisses him softly to start out, then slow and deep, that it won’t stop now. He knows and he’s ignoring it anyway, letting Hiro take the reins from him, letting himself fail to take both the responsibility and shame he should.

Too late for that.

Hiro whines softly in the back of his throat, more a loud hitch in his breath than an actual attempt to make noise. Tadashi hands him control of the kiss and Hiro takes it; he's _better at it,_ somehow, has learnt how to apply lips and teeth and tongue.

When did he learn to kiss like that? Tadashi finds the question comes to mind more often than it should as Hiro takes control of what they’re doing with absolutely no hesitation. Their mouths meld in an entirely different way than before; there’s more to it now; little teasing licks that draw his lower lip into Hiro’s mouth, breathy little noises and shifts of the body above him that Tadashi can’t ignore, couldn’t even if he wanted to.

"Ta-Tadashi..." Hiro pants out, hips twitching against the air before kissing him. "Will you...say it again? I need to hear it."

Despite his less than sober state, Hiro manages to throw a leg over his brother’s hips, lowering himself onto his elbows rather than palms in order to stay close, to take the strain out of sucking his brother's bottom lip into his mouth, leaving it red and tingling before soothing over it with his tongue.

He’s not strong enough to fight this. To fight the way his hands slip under Hiro’s clothes to feel the soft, smooth skin that’s been haunting his every waking moment since he last touched it. He feels the hitch of breath in his brother’s body, hears the way he makes an aborted moan into Tadashi's mouth, _feels_ the way his body curves with the motion of his hips, and Tadashi wants to feel it again.

He wants to feel it, hands drifting down to the small of Hiro’s back. His legs are already accommodatingly spread but he has to sit up slightly, has to move to get this right, to position his body in a way that allows him to push Hiro down, to press his thigh up into his crotch. Slow, careful rocks of his hips are meant for one thing; to _feel_ it, the way Hiro’s thighs quiver and tense. To see it; pretty, wet lips opening around sounds that don’t quite escape, the hazy look to his eyes. There he is, trembling against him. Asking. Begging.

“What?” Tadashi whispers back. Nosing his way down Hiro’s throat, he nips at the skin, panting lightly. They’re getting carried away, they need to stop- he needs to stop. He’s taking advantage. “What do you want to hear, Hiro?”

_Tell me. I’ll give you anything._

"... _Babe_..." Hiro breathes, his hips rutting consistently against Tadashi's thigh. "... _Whose babe-?"_

The noise Tadashi makes at those words is low, pulled out from his throat and almost strangled by just how much Hiro’s voice is affecting him. Keep going Hiro, keep going- _good boy, you’ve got it._ “My babe.”

Each roll of Hiro’s hips is punctuated by a sound; a gasp, a murmur. Before he knows it, Tadashi’s hands are at his brother’s hips, slowing him down. Drawing out the rhythm, building Hiro’s release without even thinking of letting him take it for a second, whispering into his ear between short, sharp nips to the lobe.

“Babe….baby….Hiro….” Tadashi can’t help it. He loves the way Hiro reacts; desperate, shuddering breaths almost at the point of ecstatic little sobs, nails raking at his shoulders mindlessly before the urge to touch _more_ catches up with him, tearing up Tadashi’s shirt just to reach inside and try to get a little back for himself, a little more. And as much as he loves seeing Hiro above him... there’s the urge to roll them over, pin him down and take all the space between them away until their hips align and they’re moving in tandem, until the bed starts to groan slightly under the fervor of their motions.

He wants it. So he does it. Enthusiastically and without remorse because at the end of the day it’s Hiro Hiro _Hiro,_ got to get to Hiro. Like it always has been. Like it always will be.

Hiro clings to Tadashi's shoulders as he rolls them over, trapping Hiro within the cage of his limbs before sitting up onto his heels. Hiro flops back against the pillows, chest rising and falling, arms half-thrown above his head with his shirt rolled up over his middle and his dick a hard line in his jeans. He looks _wrecked,_ a destroyed doll, sullied and pliable and _perfect._

For a moment, he just looks. Let’s his gaze linger on Hiro's face and lips, before falling down to where his shirt is hiked up, to the obviousness of his arousal. Tadashi bites his lip.

"...C'mere," Hiro manages to whisper, reaching out to him. Something in his gravelled voice shuts off every voice in Tadashi’s mind, leaving him fumbling, struggling to pull his shirt off with one hand, tossing it to the ground. He lets himself lean in, lets his hands grip Hiro behind the knees and open his legs so his own hips can fit in the newly created space. He tugs, and Hiro slides downwards with a yelp, shirt rolling up further, tucked uncomfortably in his armpits.

"Take it off, Hiro." Not a request, not quite. Not a command either, because Tadashi would never even insinuate that he was taking away Hiro's choice… but his younger brother scrambles to remove his shirt anyway. He flings it away in time for Tadashi to be on him once more, the feeling of skin on skin _incredible_ and Hiro wraps his arms back in their place around Tadashi's wide shoulders, scoring lines cross the blades as he _pushes,_ powerful thrusts that jostle Hiro.

Hiro wraps his legs tightly around Tadashi's waist before sinking his teeth into where his brother's neck meets his shoulder, moans high and fast into the flesh caught between his teeth, and Tadashi is _enraptured._

There’s going to be a bruise there. Vicious and deep, one that lasts for weeks and gets all sorts of questions and teasing. He’ll have to laugh weakly away and brush it all aside, but it will stand out every time he looks in the mirror, every time he looks to the side. It’s bound to have consequences; just like the rest of this, just like _all of it,_ but Tadashi’s response to it right now is an outright snarl, fumbling with his little brother’s pants and dragging them as far down his hips as their position will allow before seeing to his own, the heat almost too much as they slide together, the precum dripping from the end of Hiro's dick spread halfway up his belly and making the movements smooth.

There's a voice in his head that screams for caution, that knows if he does this, if he lets it happen, his bedsheets are going to smell like Hiro for _days before he’s over his shame enough to wash them, and even then the scent will linger and fester no matter what he tries because it’s Hiro, it’s his brother, it’s his baby, it’s-_

“C’mon baby, c’mon.” He grunts it out, hips snapping forwards, down. Pushing Hiro hard into the mattress as he feels those return thrusts grow more sporadic, hears his brother’s breathing start to stutter and cut out, his voice almost non-existent, run too ragged from moaning helplessly into Tadashi’s skin. He’s so close, so close. “For me.”

There. _There._ Tadashi watches as Hiro's face goes slack, eyes unseeing and his mouth open, his voice cracking straight down the middle, shatters like a china plate thrown to the ground. His lips frame words that could be English, Japanese or a combination of the two as he jerks through his orgasm, fingers gripped painfully in Tadashi's hair as his whole body tenses. The older boy thrusts sloppily, once, twice before he's coming with a choked off moan. His release mingles with Hiro's, painting thick lines up his stomach and hips.

Hiro’s a mess, but he’s a very quickly sleeping mess, and Tadashi doesn’t have the heart to move him. So he moves himself, gently disengaging from Hiro’s clinging limbs, slowly pulling himself out of the bittersweet aftermath and into reality, where Hiro’s hips and crotch need to be wiped off with a warm cloth before he wakes up sticky and sore. He uses another cloth (not the same one. He’ll never let anyone use that piece of wet filth again) to wipe off the streaks of black from his cheeks and eyes. The only response he gets back is a raspy sigh.

Standing back, he looks at his brother sprawled out across the bed. Shirtless, jeans down around his knees. There’s a crumpled pack of smokes near the edge of the bed; one or both of them had rolled over at some point and most of the cigarettes inside are broken.

It’s almost a perfect metaphor for the situation they’re in now.

\------

If Tadashi could have done anything differently the next day, he would’ve stayed asleep. The morning finds him waking slowly, but when he finally does, the impact of last night hits him like a freight train.

Hiro’s still there, sleeping beside him. Naked as the day he was born from the waist up, and Tadashi finds himself staring until he practically wrenches himself out of the bed, stumbling downstairs and into a burning hot shower like he can scald the sensation of self-disgust right out of his skin.

It turns out, he can’t. Tadashi’s skin is still raw an hour later, but the ugly sensations are buried much, much deeper than that. He is... unbelievable. He’s _unbelievable,_ well and truly _out of his fucking mind._

There wasn’t even the slightest question about whether or not Hiro was drunk last night. He’d known it from the moment he’d woken until the moment he’d fallen asleep, known it when he kissed him, known it when he pinned him to the bed. He’d _known,_ and Hiro was underage, he was drunk, he didn’t know any better. And he, the older brother, the person who was supposed to _take care of him was-_

Trash. A _monster._

By the time Hiro shuffles downstairs, Tadashi’s been making the same cup of coffee for two hours. His mind isn’t on it and the action of stirring, over and over again, is absent. Lost. The weight of Hiro leaning into his back snaps him back to the presence with a barely contained flinch and tensing muscles, swallowing roughly at the less than deserved affections.

His hand jerks, coffee splashing over his fingers. It’s long since cold.

"Mornin'," Hiro mumbles around a yawn, letting Tadashi take the brunt of his weight, rubbing his face against his brothers shirt.

“Good morning.” Tadashi hopes to hell his tone is neutral, hopes that Hiro just...lets him do this. Lets him turn without attempting to embrace him further, lets him gently push him upright. And Hiro does, for the most part. Confusion crosses his expression before his younger brother coughs into his hand, awkwardly looking away.

For someone who usually knows the right thing to say to him, Tadashi finds himself utterly lost for words.

“...Mn. How’s the head?”

“It’s been worse,” Hiro answers blithely, twisting around Tadashi to reach up to the top shelf, where they kept glasses. Raising himself on his tiptoes, he manages to hook a cup before filling it with water.

He’s wearing one of Tadashi’s shirts. The one he’d gone to bed in last night, as a matter of fact. It’s easy to imagine Hiro rolling out of bed and grabbing the nearest article of clothing to him, regardless of whether it’s his or not. 

Hiro isn’t tall, not in comparison to him. But when he gets too close, when their bodies almost touch, Tadashi abandons any attempts to appear collected, ducking around him and widening the space. No- no, he doesn’t trust himself enough for that now. Probably won’t ever trust himself enough, point blank. Hiro props a hip against the counter, sipping his water slowly. Watching him, eyes as analytical as they would be if he were observing a malfunctioning machine; Hiro was good at fixing things, after all.

“You’re thinking hard today,” He mused quietly, wiping moisture off his top lip, Tadashi’s shirt slipping further off his shoulder at the movement. His eyes follow it down, to the creamy shoulder it’s failing to conceal. “Don’t hurt yourself, bro.”

“…What? No, no, I’m- fine. Just been considering everything, and-” Shit. Tadashi runs a hand through his hair, feeling about as dishevelled as Hiro looks. The words are blurted out, less thought out than he wants, purely to get the moment over with. “I’m going to sleep downstairs for a while, okay?”

Hiro cocks his head to the side. “What? Why?”

Tadashi begins pacing, his hands playing, intertwining, fingers never still. His eyes touch on Hiro’s every few seconds, but he can’t hold contact. Doubtless it’s concerning him; Hiro’s the sympathetic mover, not him.

He just can’t help it right now.

“Come on, Hiro, don’t make me spell it out for you.”

“I’m serious, Tadashi.” Putting his glass down, Hiro attempts to follow his brother’s erratic movement, trying to stand in front of him and keep him still. It isn’t flying; Tadashi skirts around him with every opening that presents itself. “Would you look at me, please?! Man, ‘Dashi, you’re acting-”

“Acting _what,_ Hiro? Crazy?” Tadashi finally stops, looking over his shoulder at his brother. His chest feels tight, constricted. Whatever Hiro’s seeing in his face…obviously, he doesn’t like it. Tadashi can’t say he likes it, either. _“Everything_ about this is crazy, Hiro. _Everything._ What are we doing?”

Stepping forward, Hiro lightly takes his brother’s wrists in his hands, fingers kneading gently. Tadashi has to stop himself from tearing away, the urge distinct and almost overpowering. This is Hiro, his _little_ brother. There shouldn’t be a voice in the back of his mind right now, telling him he’s afraid.

How he’s keeping so collected in comparison is beyond him. Hiro’s eyes are soft, showing a clear sense of understanding. He’s so soft; always has been. The little try hard, always pretending to be stronger than he actually is.

“It’s going to be okay, Tadashi,” Hiro promises softly, ducking forward to try and meet his brother’s eyes. “I prom-”

“No. No it’s not going to be alright,” Tadashi whispers, his eyes closed as he pulls his wrists completely from Hiro’s grip. “This ends now, Hiro. I’m sorry.”

“Tadashi, wait-” Hiro’s hand touches lightly on his brother’s arm before it’s _snatched_ from his grip, Tadashi’s eyes almost wild in their panic.

 _“Don’t.”_ he hisses, his words laden with fear and self-loathing. “Don’t touch me.”

Swallowing against the lump in his throat, he wills himself to calm down. Turning his demand into a gentle plead. “Please.”

Silence. Hiro stares at him with those wide, soulful eyes; he looks ready to burst into tears, and no matter how hard he tries...he just can’t keep eye contact. He can’t comfort him. Can’t assure him that it’ll be okay, that they can get through this.

“I fucked up, Hiro. I fucked up. And it’s not going to happen again.”

He hears, rather than sees, the way Hiro’s breathing hitches painfully, like there’s a fish-hook caught in his throat. There’s a heavy note of distress that prompts the younger boy to turn on his heel, bolting out of the kitchen. Heavy footsteps crash down the stairs, and a bell ringing let’s him know Hiro’s gone. Out of the house, out of his sight.

Out of his ability to take care of even slightly.

He’s never been one for dramatics. Bad things sometimes happened; Tadashi had learned that from a very young age, as well as what it took to keep moving forwards despite that. He’d learned to keep himself busy; to put others first, his passions first. To put _Hiro_ first.

The glass Hiro was drinking out of shatters as Tadashi pitches it against the wall, a pained half-shout escaping his lips. His coffee cup follows, a dirty mix of coffee and water that discolors the surface and slides slowly down to the floor. Just like Tadashi does, his hands fisted in his own hair and his lip caught tight between his teeth.

For the first time since he was nine, Tadashi sits on the floor, puts his head in his crossed arms and doesn’t bother to get up.

\------

He never wanted to see this club again. If anything, he’d made a promise to himself; never again. Never again would he be in this position, never again would he have to deal with the bouncers, the crowds, the music, the drinking. The _memories._

He promised himself he wouldn’t do this again.

But Hiro hasn’t been home in five days.

Tadashi isn’t capable of pretending to be polite tonight. He shoves his way through the crowd, eyes scanning every face and shadowy corner, scowl a prominent feature of his expression that only continues to deepen the longer it takes him to track his brother down. This is ridiculous; it’s past ridiculous. Hiro’s seventeen; he needs to come _home._

There’s only one recognisable face in the whole place; the barman. Regardless of his thoughts on the man casually handing out free shots to minors, Tadashi yells over to him anyway, leaning across the shining surface of the bar to ensure he’s heard.

“Hey! Have you seen the kid I was with the other night?” A shrug. The man jerks his thumb in the direction of the back door; the smoker’s area, and Tadashi’s stomach twists violently.

Right. Of course.

The tremor in his fingers, something that’s become an almost permanent fixture in the past week, grows steadily more apparent the closer he gets. More than once, Tadashi finds himself breaking for the nearest wall; something solid to lean against despite the disgusting moisture that clings to it. Too many bodies in too small a space.

He’s angry, of course. That’s all it is; a mixture of aggravation and concern that makes crossing fifty feet of space one of the most difficult actions of his young life, makes the door look more imposing than anything he’s seen before. Behind it, Hiro’s probably just- enjoying a fag with his friends. Having a good time.

It’s anger, that he’s feeling.

Anything else and he never would have been able to get the door open.

Of course, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t immediately regret opening the door. Tadashi does. From the moment his eyes fall on Hiro, crushed against the wall by another person, looking for all the world like he’s in agony as lips mash against his own a large hand holding his face still. Hiro’s eyes flicker open. Even from across the courtyard, he can see how a tear catches the light as it falls down his brother’s face. 

He regrets _everything._

He regrets ever allowing Hiro the space to get into this habit of coming here. He regrets not following him sooner. He regrets not being a little more firm about pulling his head in. He regrets showing Hiro that being treated like that is okay. He regrets he regrets he regrets.

What isn’t regretted in the slightest is just how fast he moves. Two things occur in quick succession; the first is one hand latching on the stranger’s shoulder, wrenching him away from Hiro like he’s not half a head taller nor twice as large. The second is his fist meeting a solid jaw.

There’s something to be said about the martial arts he’s done in the past. If he wants someone to go down, they go down.

He’s trying to convince himself that kicking someone whilst they’re down is _wrong_ when Hiro stutters out his name, and immediately, his attention is drawn to him. Hiro's in the process of wiping his eyes when Tadashi turns to look at him, making them both falter. "I...I..."

He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing nervously. He’s terrified. Terrified of him.

Every part of Tadashi takes in the way his brother is holding himself up like he’s two seconds from breaking apart and _screams_ at him to get his baby brother out of this place; take him home, never let him come back.

Except it’s not his choice anymore. Hiro’s come here night after night...and this can’t be the first time. It really can’t be the first time. Slowly, wordlessly, Tadashi shakes his head, anger leaving him with every harsh exhale.

_What have I done to you?_

He can’t stay here any longer; the urge to leave is so thick its closing his throat, making it almost impossible to breath. Keeps his fists clenched is the only thing that hides how badly he’s shaking, turning about and stalking back towards the door. Away from this.

"-fink yer fu'in goin'..."

How? How could he possibly fuck this up more than he already has?

"Duh fuck you fink yer goin', _baby?"_ The guy who’d fucking cornered his brother has his hand clenched around Hiro’s ankle, stopping him from walking away. Blood drips from the corner of his mouth, even as he leers up at him. 

He doesn’t mean to stop, but the moment the word _‘baby’_ hits his ears, Tadashi goes stock still, body tensing as his ears ring. Baby. Baby.

That’s not something he gets to say to _his brother._ Under his breath, Tadashi snarls, wheeling about with every intention of continuing and ending this debate; the ugly monster in his stomach rears its ugly head, possessive and willing to show it with significant violence.

_His baby._

And it’s so, so satisfyingdisgusting _andwhatishe **doing**_ when Hiro handles it for them both; Hiro raises his other foot, stomping down hard and earning himself a satisfying howl of pain. Likely, he’s broken a few fingers. Hiro steps over the creep, bending to fist his two hands in the man's collar and lift him up, until their faces are inches apart. Not his baby, no.

"Don't _fucking_ call me baby." Hiro's voice is like fractured ice, cold and deadly. "I am not _your_ fucking baby." 

But he knows he’s someone’s. Tadashi has to physically swallow down the triumph that wants to express itself, just as much as the fear.

Too far. This is too far. Barging his way through the doors, he doesn’t remember getting through the club until he’s out on the street, gasping lungfuls of cold air as he pants like he’s just run a marathon.

Staggering forwards takes more effort than he expected, but once he’s got the motions down pat, Tadashi’s steps even out into long, purposeful strides, anger projecting from his form and ensuring that he’s given a wide berth from any stragglers on the sidewalk.

It’s dark, it’s cold; and he’s so _angry._ Angry at himself, angry at that _man,_ angry at Hiro.

"Tadashi, hold it," Hiro. Thinking of the devil brings him close, close enough to grip the back of his blazer, slow him down and force him round. "Just...wait...”

The lull in conversation is necessary. Necessary in allowing Tadashi to breathe, to attempt to calm. To focus.

"Um, thanks." Hiro stutters out, eyes running over Tadashi’s face, over the way he’s holding himself. He hasn’t seen Hiro this anxious in a long time, like he’s worried that at any moment, Tadashi would just- walk off on him. It’s tempting. "I didn't... I didn't want that. You know that, right?"

But every word comes from bruised lips that Tadashi can’t take his eyes off. They’re wet.

Not because Hiro’s licked them. But they’re wet all the same.

“Hiro.” He cuts him off before he can try explaining further. The teen’s expression is so... _edgy._ Nervous, like he doesn’t really know what to expect now. For once, Hiro’s not acting like he’s got everything under control.

That’s what does it, really. That’s the internal assessment that snaps the last of his restraint, hands gripping Hiro’s wrists and spinning him round, backing him into the wall. Those wide brown eyes watch him all the while, and something inside Tadashi _roars_ because of it.

He starts at his lips. Cutting off the distance with a kiss that’s almost bruising, full of teeth and tongue. He worries pink skin between his lips, swipes across the break with his tongue; allows for shaking fingers to claw at the back of his jacket because he’s _busy, here._ Hands slip up from behind, underneath his blazer and shirt to dig nails into the expanse of his back to leave gouges in flesh, hard enough to mark and claim and remind. Like Hiro is trying to make sure that, every morning in the mirror, his brother will see exactly why he can't twist without his back twinging. Hiro clings to his shoulders, one leg coming up to hook over his waist and bringing him in, holding him close. If they get any closer, he’ll lose it. Fall into Hiro again, just like he doesn’t want.

But he’s busy. Busy ignoring the harsh, protesting exhale from Hiro’s lips when Tadashi turns his head, nose brushing across his cheek as he dips down, towards his neck. The angle is awkward and Hiro’s clinging doesn’t make it easier, but once he’s at that expanse of skin he’s _at it,_ biting down on the graceful curve as his hands pull at Hiro’s hips, pull him impossibly closer. Hiro hisses out a moan as Tadashi sucks a bruise into his skin, higher than a shirt can hide. Where _everyone_ can see it.

It’s not good enough, he supposes. Not good enough, to have to turn around and see the taint of someone else on him. Tadashi purses his lips and _sucks_ with every intention of leaving a bruise, taking that taint and replacing every little bit of it with himself. Pulling on the sleeve of Hiro’s shirt so hard he hears the seams tearing loudly-

"Oh _fuck,"_ Hiro huffs out voice rough as road-burn, gravel and grazes colouring the octave black as he fists his hands in Tadashi's hair and pulls him off his neck before attacking his mouth, fangs bared and looking for a crack in his armour he can widen _just enough_ to slip through.

And it’s still not good enough.

He forgets sometimes exactly who he’s dealing with. That Hiro knows him better than anyone else on the planet; that he knows him too, more than well enough to hear the throaty groan in his voice and have all the air in his lungs escape in a loud hiss. He doesn’t mean to tear Hiro’s shirt; but it happens; seams giving under the strain of being dragged over his shoulder, and—careful. He should be much more careful.

Hiro neither seems to know nor care what they _should_ be doing. Tadashi’s actions claim, but Hiro’s _keep._ Holding him in and containing him in that moment, barricading Tadashi’s mind from the rest of the world with the motions of his body, with his scent, with his harsh breaths and ragged groans. They’re not in a back alley, this time; they’re in the street, but that’s not something that occurs to him until Hiro moans his name.

_Tadashi._

Tadashi.

That’s him.

And that’s Hiro.

“Fuck!” He pulls away with a loud curse, leaving Hiro to catch himself on the wall as he turns away, pacing over the sidewalk, onto the empty road and halfway over to the opposite side of the street before turning about, pulling at his clothes. Trying to look like nothing ever happened. “Fuck, Hiro. _Stop. Just stop.”_

Like he was the one who started it.

“What the _fuck_ is your problem?!” Hiro demands, storming after him. Tadashi doesn’t have to look to know he’s already starting to cry; angry tears, his fury more like a hurricane rather than bone-dry and deadly. “Don’t you walk away from me, asshole! You don’t get to keep _doing this to me!”_

 _“I know that!”_ He shouts back. _I know. I know. I’m so sorry._ “Do you think this is what I came here for, tonight?! To do... _this-”_

He makes an aborted gesture, short and sharp.

“Again?!”

 _“You kissed me!”_ Hiro practically screeches, feeling his voice crack from stress, sounding fourteen again instead of seventeen. “You pinned me against a wall, Tadashi, you did this-!” He pulls the tattered side of his shirt away from his neck, the bruise _Tadashi had just left_ stark against the paleness of his throat.

“Take a good fucking look, bro. This is _all_ you. I don’t make you do this-” Hiro strides up, shoving Tadashi bodily with two hands against his chest. “I don’t make you _want me!”_

He’s going to be sick. Covering his mouth with one hand, Tadashi can’t step back fast enough, gaze straying to the sky like somehow, _something up there_ could make better sense of this than he can.

“Pull your shirt up.” He mutters gruffly, eyes dropping away. “Just….no, Hiro. No more. This was a-”

“-I swear to _god_ you say ‘a mistake’ one more time, you’ll be picking your teeth up off the fucking road,” Hiro says, the timbre of his voice shaking with rage and tears. He leaves his shirt exactly where it is, watching as Tadashi’s eyes keep touching on the mark, returning to it like its a brand of ownership.

 _Mine._

The monster settles solidly in his gut; content.

He’s never hated himself more than he does in this moment.

“Why can you just admit it?” Hiro says in a quiet voice, tears slipping down his cheeks, leaving black tracks down his face. That stupid fucking make up…

“I don’t-”  
“Why can’t you admit that you _want me just as much as I want you?!”_ Hiro’s voice starts as a whisper, growing in volume until he’s shouting again, shoving, pushing. Pressing Tadashi into a corner. And he’d continue to rail, continue to push, unless Tadashi-

 _“Hiro, STOP!”_ The word echoes in the street around them long after he’s roared it out. And it’s the only thing that stops Hiro from continuing down that road; Tadashi can see it in the way he’s frozen, tears still tracking slowly down his cheeks, but no more continuing to fall from his eyes. Silent. Blessedly silent.

“It. Was. A. Mistake.” He punctuates every word slowly, looking down at Hiro with his head high and shoulders hunched forwards aggressively. Overshadowing. Denying. “And telling me not to say it will _not_ change that fact. So? Here I am!”

He raises his arms in a careless motion, palms outwards. “Go on. Knock my teeth out. It won’t _change_ anything!”

Hiro’s eyes are round. Wide. Shining like those of a child who's just learnt that the world isn’t fair. His head shakes from side to side, minutely, subconsciously. Like he’s utterly unable to comprehend what his brother is telling him.

“I…” his voice shakes. “I...I don’t…”

The abrupt shift from agony to hate is almost physically palpable. Tadashi watches as those wide eyes narrow, as Hiro’s lip curls. Disgusted in him, and a part of Tadashi can’t help but think, _finally._

“...Fine. I’m done. I’m done with this, and I’m fucking done with _you.”_

He turns on his heel, hands balled into fists at his sides. Despite that tight fury, an audible sob escapes past his lips once his back’s turned, telling Tadashi more than anything he might be able read off of Hiro’s face ever could. 

Shit.

“Hiro-” No, he can’t just let him go like this. Stepping forwards, Tadashi catches his brother’s wrist; his little brother, the one that he’s hurt and fucked over so many times lately, it’s not even surprising that he wants to walk away.

Tadashi wants to walk away from himself, too.

“Hiro…” His voice softens, catching an edge of desperation that’s similar to the expression on his face. Please, just listen. Please, understand. Please. “Hiro, you’re my brother. I _love you._ But not like this. Not- not like this.”

He can’t. They can’t. There’s something ugly there; something in _him_ that isn’t right. There’s part of him that wants Hiro back against that wall, something _beastly_ inside that would gladly drag him back home, back into his bed. That would take away any barrier between their skin and keep Hiro completely, and utterly, to itself.

That’s not how he loves his brother. That’s not the person he is.

And despite every ugly emotion reflecting back at him in Hiro’s eyes, he’ll never let himself become that.

“You’re a _fucking liar,”_ Hiro hisses. And Tadashi flinches, because-

It’s true. He’s lying with his entire _soul,_ and he still can’t convince either of them. 

“Don’t _ever_ fucking touch me again.” Hiro pulls his arm out of Tadashi’s grip, staring at him for one more tear-stained moment before running, his feet beating out a rapid tempo against the tarmac, echoing across the deserted street, disappearing around the corner and out of Tadashi’s line of sight.

Looking back, Tadashi finds it strange that he felt the strength go out of his legs, but not the actual impact of hitting the ground. 

His pain didn’t matter. Not when he could see the gulf growing between him and his brother; vast, deep...and impossible to cross. 

No physical pain could _ever_ be as bad as that. 

\------

Hiro stops running when he’s made it five blocks away. He limps through the gate to a nameless park, finds a bench, and sinks into it.

In the silence of 3:05 am, he buries his head into his arms, and sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL. 
> 
> Show of hands, did any of you expect this? BECAUSE WE FUCKING DIDN'T. I mean Jesus, this thing fucking _ran away from us completely_ in certain places. 
> 
> Either way, we hope you're happy with the finished product, and will come back to see how our dear sweet Hamada's deal with the shit-storm we've turned their lives into. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> You can check out Annie's Tumblr [here,](http://annie-mantic.tumblr.com/) And Bird's [here.](http://lockandkeyblade.tumblr.com/) We're both secretly very lonely and thrive off attention. <3


	3. This Is The Last Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “...Something bad happened tonight,” he whispers to Tadashi’s neck, like a secret; he almost hopes his brother doesn’t hear him, but the words are already in his mouth and he can’t swallow them back down. “...I was scared. I fought, and I…”
> 
> Sighing, he closes his eyes and fists a hand in his brother’s shirt, over his racing heart. 
> 
> “...I needed you, ‘Dashi. I needed you there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Birds: I didn't expect this chapter to be this chapter and it better hurt you because it fucking hurt me.
> 
> Hey guys, Annie again. 
> 
> We're sorry. We're so, so sorry. 
> 
> Let it be on the record that I take full responsibility for 70% of the bad things that happen from here on out. I am a firm believer in treating characters like geodes; in order to see what they're made of, you have to _break them._ Birds, bless her heart, is along for the ride like the rest of you. 
> 
> Even so, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

[ This Is The Last Time ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iZFSEuTmQsg)

* * *

**But, so what if I drank too much?**

**This ain't love, it's just a firefight.**

**And even if it's not enough**

**I'll say it once; I swear I never lied.**

**...I'm drowning in liquor,**

**and apathy will be the death of me.**

**\- The Eden Project (Drowning)**

* * *

For the first time in his academic career, Hiro’s actually having trouble understanding something; he stares blankly at the motherboard in his hands, a complicated piece of wiring and coding...and it doesn’t work. And he doesn’t know _why._

“...C’mon, you piece’o _shit,”_ he mutters angrily under his breath, hands reaching out to do several things in quick succession; he flicks on his desk-lamp, angling the beam onto the centre of the board; his other hand flips a switch on his left that fires up the high-powered extractor fan that he’d ‘borrowed’ from Honey, installed directly above his deck. 

He also pulls a cigarette from the half-empty box in his pocket and flips open his lighter, breathing deeply as the end catches before refocusing on the task at hand. 

_Gotta keep busy,_ his mind chants to him as he pokes half-heartedly at the connections with a hot piece of soldering, knowing full-well that he’s checked and double-checked all the connections and they all work fine… _Keep busy. Don’t think, don’t think-_

“Hey, Rep,” a voice trills out from behind him, surprising him as line of molten iron is drawn across the board as his hand twitches. Ruined, for the time being at least. Growling, he swivels in his chair with his mouth open ready to tear whoever it is that disturbed him a new one…

“Oh. Hey, Ami.” Taking a long draw of his cigarette and tilting his head back so he can blow the smoke directly up into the spinning blades of the fan above him, he leans back in his chair and hitches a smirk on his face. 

None of his smiles feel natural anymore. He hopes that Amina doesn’t notice. 

“How’s it going in here, Hiro? We haven’t seen you about in a couple days.” He notices how her eyes sweep over the battered couch he’s got set up in the corner of his office (kindly donated by Fred after he’d told the older guy he needed to spend a couple days at SFIT to work through a project; ‘a couple days’ had turned into two weeks.) The blankets and pillows are in a messy disarray across the patched fabric and empty ramen pots are stacked neatly next to his overflowing bin. “You, uh. You movin’ in here, boss?”

“‘Course not,” Hiro grumbles, using his thumbnail to chip off the iron soldering from the motherboard. He blinks, tilting it 90 degrees and suddenly the answer is staring him _right in the damn face._ “Fucking hell…”

“Good, ‘cus you know Abigail would have something to say about that.” 

“Mhm. Look, did you need something or did you just come to chat? If you want this motherboard up and running, it’s in your best interest to _fuck off._ You know that, right?”

“Temper, temper,” Amina replies smoothly as she toys with the end of her headscarf before leaning her hip against Hiro’s desk, her arms crossed. “You’ve got such a _bite_ on you recently, Hamada. In more ways than one.” She runs her finger up his neck and over the fading bruise that’s been a staple to his appearance for the last two weeks. She giggles when he flicks her hand away, eyebrows drawing together. “You still not gonna tell me who gave it to you?”

“Nope.” Hiro’s response is short, clipped. He blows on the board, a fine cloud of iron shavings fluttering onto his desk before he practically throws the thing into Amina’s lap. “There. Done. Kindly go away now.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” She pushes herself to her feet with an exaggerated groan. “Thanks for this, by the way. I owe ya.” She waves the completed motherboard in the air before heading over to the door and pulling it open. Pausing, she looks back over her shoulder. 

“Hey, lemme thank you properly; usual place tonight? I’ll pay for your drinks? Well. Some of’em.” 

“....Sure. I’ll meet you at nine.” Hiro listens for the door to close and the tap of Amina’s heels to disappear before he allows himself to flop back into his chair, stubbing out the remains of his cigarette into his ashtray and covering his eyes with his hand. He’d been doing so _well,_ too.

Without needing to look, he opens the top drawer of his desk and pulls out a small, round compact mirror (again, thank you Honey). Flipping it open, he angles it enough so that he can see the hickey on his neck. It’s nowhere near as vicious looking as it was; the blood vessels are repairing and the bruising is going down. In a couple more days, it’ll probably be gone. 

He tries to tell himself that it doesn’t bother him. 

Hiro traces it lightly with his fingertips, tracing over a scarred bump caused when one of… _Tadashi’s_ incisors had broken the skin. It’s less than a couple centimetres in length, a stark-white line on his otherwise tanned skin. Noticeable. 

He still remembers the look on his brother’s face when he’d kissed him against that wall, desperate and possessive as if it happened yesterday; he sees it every night when he closes his eyes, after all. 

Groaning, Hiro hoists himself from his chair and wanders over to his new bed. He reaches behind the back of the couch and pulls out a cloth bag that’s filled with dirty clothes needing to be taken back to the Lucky Cat and swapped out for new ones. 

If he’s going out dancing tonight, he definitely needs some clean threads. He just wished the thought of going home didn’t make him want to throw up.

\------

Hiro hears voices as he lets himself in through the cafe’s backdoor; it’s a Sunday, and the one day of the week they’d managed to convince Cass to actually close her precious shop and spend a full 24-hours taking care of herself instead of the hungry and thirsty masses. 

It’s his family. It has to be. 

He doesn’t mean to close the back-door silently, slowly easing it shut and wincing as it clicks loudly. He slips his feet out of his sneakers, past experiences teaching him that Aunt Cass has bat-like hearing, and socked feet on wooden stairs are so much harder to detect than a hard-bottomed shoe. 

He follows the staircase upwards, and the voices become easier to differentiate; it’s his Aunt, her voice lower and softer than usual; so much so that he can’t make out the words…

And the quiet rumble of his brother, words too slow for him to put any meaning to them. He can’t concentrate on their meaning, regardless; he can already feel his heart rate increasing, his mouth going dry at the very _sound_ of his brother’s voice. 

He hates that it affects him so much. 

“-What I can even tell him, aside from-” Hiro pauses as he reaches the top of the stairs, watching as Tadashi’s eyes flit from Aunt Cass’ face to his. They’re sitting at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around big mugs of what looks like his aunt’s famous hot chocolate; her mug is empty. Tadashi’s is still full and probably long cold.

His brother’s pupils contract in surprise before his face slackens, lips parting in surprise. It’s as if Hiro’s a ghost, an unwelcome apparition in his own home and it makes him sick; it makes him feel sick to his stomach that his very _appearance_ causes so much distress to his older brother that he has to school his expression into showing no emotion in order not to startle their aunt. 

_They’ve been talking about me. Great._

“Don’t let me interrupt,” Hiro says after a moment of staring at his brother, his voice taut and halting as he lifts the bag. As if he has to give his family a _reason_ for coming home. “Laundry. I won’t be long.” 

He drops the bag by their washing machine, his eyes touching Tadashi’s once more (he tries not to let the hurt he feels show through, _god_ does he try) before he quickly stomps past them both and runs up the stairs to their room, taking the steps two at a time and shutting the door firmly behind him. 

His heart’s racing. He holds a hand to his mouth, just for a moment as everything settles; his breathing slows, his heart-rate decreases and he’s _fine._

He quickly gathers up some clothes; clean shirts, jeans and shorts, underwear, socks… 

His room is exactly as he left it, but his bedsheets have been changed. He wonders if it was Aunt Cass or Tadashi that did it; trying to show in their own way that when he was ready to come home, there would be a clean, warm bed waiting for him… 

He wasn’t sure he could ever share a room with his brother again. Not like this. It would hurt too much. 

Speaking of sleeping… Hiro shoots a quick look at the door before hurrying over to Tadashi’s side of the room and plucking his shirt of the back of his chair; it’s clean, but it’s been worn. He holds it, the worn material soft against his fingers before his folds the item of clothing up and hides it in the stack of his own things, pulling out a similar shirt from Tadashi’s drawers and replacing the one he just took; Tadashi would never notice.  


And Hiro? Well, he’d sleep better surrounded by the scent of his brother’s cologne and soap...even if he didn’t want to.

Finishing up, Hiro cracks open his bedroom door and listens. He can’t hear anything from downstairs; no voices, no sound of movement...nothing. Maybe Aunt Cass and Tadashi stepped out, giving him the entire house to himself. The thought doesn’t please him as much as he thought it would. 

Tiptoeing down the stairs with his clean clothing clutched tightly to his chest, he pauses on the steps and bends forwards in order to peek into the room; there’s no-one in sight...except Mochi, sunning himself near the window. 

Letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, Hiro takes the rest of the stairs quickly, putting his clean stack of clothes on the kitchen table before falling to his knees near the washing machine, pulling it open and throwing clothes into the drum. 

He’s certain Cass would kill him for not separating his darks and lights, but she’s not here and time is of the essence; any moment now, she could walk back in with Tadashi in tow and- 

“Hiro Hamada! What have I told you about washing clothes?” And he really shouldn’t assume things. Like his thoughts had summoned her, Aunt Cass is right there, leaning past him to rifle through the mess of clothes in the machine and tugging out the whites with a keen eye. “Budge over, little man. Let me tackle this.” 

“You- You don’t have to, Aunt Cass…” Hiro interjects weakly, sitting back and crossing his legs as Cass shoots him a look; they both remember the last time he tried to wash something and ended up dying all his underwear pink. “...Thanks.” 

“Gotta let me do _something_ for you these days,” she sniffs, the sharpness of her words softened by the smile she gives him. Hiro scratches the back of his head, staring down at his knees; he can’t meet her eye. Not after the way he’s been treating her.

“Yeah…” He pauses, listening to the quiet rustle of Aunt Cass’ practiced hands loading up the machine, turning dials and letting the drum fill with water as he tries to find his voice. His aunt kneels in front of him patiently. “...I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting, Aunt Cass. I’m just… I’m stressed with school, a-and I’ve got all these responsibilities as the Rep as well as my own portfolios and I’m _sorry_ I’ve been treating you like shit, I don’t mean to-” he can hear his voice getting higher, the words brittle and easily broken. He can feel himself tearing up and he feels six years old again, holding his Aunt’s mug in his hands, her favourite one now sporting a huge crack down the side and having to apologise that he’d broken it. 

Almost twelve years later, and he’s still not sure how to fix things. 

“Hey, _hey!_ Sweetie, look at me.” She grabs his chin in a firm hold, waiting for him to stop working himself into a tizzy before letting the hold soften, smile fond and oh so tired. “You boys, always trying to do everything on your own...c’mere.”

She pulls him in for a tight hug, petting his hair and kneeling up slightly just so she can rest her chin on his head and hold him as close as she can, shushing him soothingly. Hiro goes willingly into her grip, winding his arms around her waist and hiding his face in her shoulder and just...breathing. He’s so _tired_ of crying all the time. “I think you could do with some hot chocolate. What do you think?” 

“...Yeah. I’d like that,” he says quietly into her sweater, holding her for long enough to get himself back under control and _god bless_ his aunt because she doesn’t try to pull away, just strokes her hand through his hair, a constant soothing motion until he feels like he can pull his face back and look at her without bursting into tears. 

They share a smile and she presses a kiss to his forehead before allowing him to help her to her feet. 

“Do you...Do you think you’ll need some help?” Hiro asks as he picks at his nails and looks at her from under his lashes; he would never admit it to anyone, but he sometimes misses when he was smaller and easily folded into her arms, rather than them being eye-to-eye like they are these days. 

“You know, I just might.” She ruffles his hair, letting the hand slip down to his shoulder as they walk back through to the kitchen, teasingly bumping him into the doorframe when it’s clear that no, they don’t quite fit through that gap together as easily as they used to. “Are you having another growth spurt, young man? We’ll have to go splurge on some new clothes for your birthday- grab some mugs for me, Hiro? The big blue ones; we’re gonna drink so much chocolate our thighs will bloat up.” 

Hiro laughs as he does what he’s told; a bright sound that surprises him as he reaches up on his tiptoes to hook the mugs off the top shelf. 

It’s been weeks since he last heard himself laugh. 

“I guess I could be? I mean, I’ve got two weeks till my birthday; d’you think I could get a couple inches between then and now?” Straining, he manages to pull the second mug from the shelf with a sharp pull, snatching it up deftly before lowering himself back onto the balls of his feet. “I need to able to reach the top shelf. It’s not fair that Tada-” 

He feels his throat constrict, cutting his brother’s name in half. He coughs, trying to play it off as a tickle before continuing his sentence with difficulty; “It’s not fair that...Tadashi is the only one to be able to reach up there.” 

“Oh, you’ll catch up to him soon, you can count on it.” She waves a spoon at him from the other side of the kitchen, setting up a pot and taking out a packet of cooking chocolate to melt down; there would be no chocolate powder in this household, no sir. “Your brother, bless his soul, likes to pretend he’s taller than he actually is. Don’t tell him I said that.”

If she picks up on his misstep, Aunt Cass doesn’t comment on it. She keeps her hands busy with the stove, making sure to continue stirring the mixture as the blocks of chocolate begin to melt down, humming a little before chancing a look in his direction.

“I could whip up some grub, too. No fun eating dinner alone.” 

Dinner. Dinner with Cass would be _amazing;_ he’s been living off instant noodles and whatever food was cheap at the cafeteria each day and it was all terrible. He missed the home-cooked meals, the good ingredients and actual flavour- 

He just wasn’t sure if he was brave enough to risk being home. Tadashi would have to come back eventually, after all. 

But his Aunt Cass is looking at him with such a hopeful expression and he has _missed_ her; she’s the only mom he’s ever had and he wants to stay home, he does, he doesn’t want to have to be on the outside again- 

“...Please, Aunt Cass.” He can risk it for one night. Just to stay with her, just for a few more hours...it was worth it. “D’you wanna watch a movie or something? We haven’t had a couch day in a while…” 

Cass smiles as she hands him the large mug, the stream rising from it rich and delicious; Hiro sips it appreciatively. “I think that sounds like an awesome idea, sweetie. C’mon, lets go sit down and see what we can find.” 

They spend the rest of the afternoon curled up on either end of their small couch, watching terrible flick after terrible flick; once the hot chocolates are gone and Hiro’s feeling sweet and comfortable, he lets his aunt pull his head into her lap, playing with his hair as they watch their movies. 

They talk almost constantly; about everything and nothing, mostly. Cass tentatively tries to bring up Tadashi a few times, and each time Hiro feels like there’s a fist squeezing around his heart. He doesn’t know how best to talk to her about it...what is there that he could say? That he had feelings that were more than brotherly for his older sibling and the fact that Tadashi wasn’t acting on those same feelings was making him miserable, lonely and heartbroken? 

He couldn’t say anything. Not a damn word. 

It’s obvious that she wants to press him a little more about it, the lines on her forehead and the creases around her eyes getting deeper as the night goes on. It’s in one of the ad breaks, long after the conversation has died down and the silence has tentatively become almost comfortable that she opens her mouth, words halting. A tad unsure.

“I know school’s been running you ragged this semester, sweetie...and you and your brother haven’t really been getting along so well lately. It’s rough, but...do me a favor, my little man?”

Hearing Cass put it all into actual words, words from an outside source makes Hiro feel funny; he never thought there’d be a time in his life he ‘didn’t get along’ with his older brother. 

It makes him feel empty. 

“...Sure, Aunt Cass. What is it?”

“Just...look out for your brother for me, okay? He’s-” She pauses, lips moving around words until she finds one that fits. “He’s been struggling, lately. Maybe you could- ask him, if he needs to talk about anything. You’re better at making him listen, the knucklehead.”

“Struggling? What do you mean? With Baymax?” Hiro pushes himself up out of Cass’ lap, giving her a look of alarm. Out of the two of them, he was the one who was hurting, the one who’d been rejected….not that Cass knew that. Tadashi was fine, and if it was Baymax’s patents and finding buyers, then that was normal and he was probably fine. 

Cass was worried about nothing. 

“...Sure, Aunt Cass. When I next see him, I’ll talk to him.” He wasn’t lying to her. He would talk to his brother next time he saw him.

He was just going to make extra sure that didn’t happen. “D’you wanna start dinner? I’m meeting some friends tonight, so I’ll need to get ready soon…” 

“Ah- that’s one thing, I suppose.” She offers him an awkward little shrug, hands fluttering nervously in the air without anything to occupy them. “Just- you two. I dunno, I’m just an aunt.”

She laughs at herself as she gets to her feet, groaning a little as she pushes her fists into the small of her back.

“Should’ve bought those books by now. So, you thinking something light, sweetie? If it’s gonna be a wild night, you don’t want anything too heavy. A good salad, maybe a bit of lamb, something easy, huh?”

Now that she’s said her piece, the conversation picks but up again. Inane natterings that seem to brush away her previous words completely, but it’s odd how long it takes before she can meet his eyes again.

\------

Dinner is nice; quiet. Tadashi wasn’t back by the time he left, wallet in his back pocket and phone to his ear to ring in a taxi. He’s sad to be leaving, since his evening with his Aunt has been enjoyable and long needed. 

Still, he promised that he would meet Amina, which is what finds him queuing outside their usual haunt, fake ID flashed to the bouncer who recognises his face anyway, and then he’s in. The music hits him with the same force as a brick wall, the low lights momentarily blinding him as he waits for his eyes to adjust. 

The bass is heavy, as usual. It’s more comforting than he cares to admit, especially at the moment, when he feels like there’s nowhere he can call home.

“Hiro! There you are!” he peers through the artificial fog and grins as Amina saunters over to him, a glass in each hand. “Didn’t think you were going to show, babe! Drink up!”

He blinks at the word before hitching a smile onto his face and clinking their glasses together before tipping his head back and swallowing as much of it he can handle before the burn of the alcohol makes him pause; tonight’s one of the better nights, where he doesn’t want to drink just to forget the texture of his brother’s skin. 

In fact, he already kind of misses the warmth of the Lucky Cat, and the feeling of his aunt’s fingers through his hair. 

“Hiro? You okay?” Amina asks as she bends forward to look into the boy’s face, her expression showing concern. Hiro quickly flashes her a smile and hooks his arm through hers, dragging her towards the dancefloor. 

“I’m good; let’s dance.” He throws himself into the sea of people, weaving past everyone until he’s in the centre, pulling Amina close with a grin before starting to move; he keeps his eyes above her head, open to anyone who looks like they’re interested; he’s only got so much cash and he can feel the familiar expectation beginning to crawl up his spine; the almost need to keep glancing at the main doors, waiting for someone, a specific _someone_ to come through the doors and grab him, even if it’s just to take him home. 

He needs to stamp the feeling out. By any means necessary. 

It’s not long before a woman starts staring at him, and he pats Amina’s hip to let her know she’s done what she was supposed to; she tips him a wink before disappearing into the crowd, allowing the stranger to take her place, dancing against the flat plains of Hiro’s body and he suggests that they head to the bar and she nearly _trips_ with her eagerness. 

A brief conversation, a little lip service...it’s all that’s required of him to get his prize, quickly consumed and back on the hunt. 

He wonders, as he weaves through the crowd, if he should be ashamed of this. Like Tadashi said, all those weeks ago. He wasn’t particularly _proud_ of what he was doing. It just...it just happened. People wanted to dance with him and he wanted to get drunk. It was a simple bartering of services, surely. 

Nothing more than that. 

He certainly wasn’t looking to fill the _empty_ feeling behind his ribs; a space that was once filled with a warm, coffee-brown contentment that had been _ripped_ out on a deserted street not two weeks ago. 

He doesn’t find himself gravitated towards people of a specific build, with a specific eye-colour or way of laughing. And he certainly didn’t feel a crushing disappointment every time they didn’t kiss him like they were supposed to. 

“You’re on the ball tonight, Hamada,” Amina half-shouts over the music at him as she slides a hand into his and drags him towards the smoking area. Hiro allows her to lead, his head beginning to feel fuzzy and disconnected, his vision blur delicately around the edges. 

“I’m quite sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hiro replies loftily, his words slow as Amina offers him her cigarette packet; he plucks one from the box and allows his friend to light it, tipping his head back and blowing a curling column of smoke upwards into the night sky. 

“Oh yes, you do. You’ve been flitting around a lot more than usual, hummingbird,” she replies with the same trill, smirking from behind the smoke that issues from between her painted lips. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or not.” 

“How about...fuck you?” Hiro manages to get out, his own face showing confusion before his friend burst out laughing, throwing an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close enough to pinch his cheeks. “Get off, Jesus... your nails are like damn talons, Ami.”

“Quit complaining, junior.” they smoke together in silence for a few moments; it’s nice. Hiro still wishes that he could’ve been sharing this with the nerds, but it was rare that they all had the same time off together, and it was hard to convince one to come without the others. Well, except Fred, but he’d hated Amina from the first second he’d met her and there was no convincing him to come within three feet of her after that. 

“Hey, Hiro. Check that guy out.” 

He blinks himself out of his own thoughts and follows Amina’s pointed gaze; the man in question is stood across the small courtyard, half in a conversation with his friends and half staring at Hiro’s ass. He wants to turn so the guy can’t look; even from a good fifty feet away, Hiro can feel the stranger’s gaze as heavily as if it were a physical touch, and he’s not sure he likes it. 

“He’s checking you out, Hiro,” Amina mutters around the tip of her cigarette before stamping it out and grinning at him. “You should wave him over.” 

“...Nah. Not this time.” Hiro tries to play it off as simply not being interested, but it’s more than that; he doesn’t like the way his skin itches, the way his hair stands on end as he feels the man’s dark eyes brush over his body. 

“...Too late, sugar. He’s coming over. Best of luck!” The last part of her sentence is sung over her shoulder as she totters off back into the club, a parting wave of long red fingernails the only thing she leaves Hiro with. 

_...Great. Thanks, buddy._ He watches as the guy approaches; he has too, has to hold his eyes so that can’t crawl over his arms and shoulders, because it’s enough to make him want to run away. 

“Hey man. Saw you staring at me.” _False._ “Could I buy you a drink?”

“Maybe one. If you’re good.” The words are out of his mouth faster than Hiro can reign them in, and he has to suppress a shudder at the ways the stranger’s eyes suddenly turn _hard,_ predatory as his smile goes thin and mean. 

“Oh, I can be _very good,”_ the guy purrs before taking Hiro’s hand and almost dragging him into the club, pointing towards the bar and letting Hiro go; he’s got a strong grip, with thick fingers and Hiro can already feel his wrist aching from the guys touch. He rubs it gently as he follows the man over, who’s quietly asking for a beer and sitting himself at the bar; he recognises the barman, who raises an eyebrow at the man who’s handed over a crumpled note. _Where’s your boyfriend?_ The look clearly asks, and Hiro shakes his head, looking down at the bars sticky surface. 

The barman shrugs-- _not my business, kid_ \-- before placing the two drinks in front of him and going to serve someone else. Hiro kind of wishes the man would stick around; anything to save him from being left alone with the ‘kindly’ patron who’d paid for his drink. 

At first, the conversation is innocent; where’s he from, what does he do, oh you’re a student? Much be pretty smart kid and hey, what’s your name, _baby-_

“I, uh… I’m gonna go,” Hiro stammers out, pushing himself out of his seat and attempting to blend in with the crowd as a hand closes around his wrist and _pulls,_ pulls him clear off his feet and against a chest that’s hard, hard as concrete and just as _cold._

“Huh? What do you mean, you’re _gonna go?”_ the guy growls, hand still closed around Hiro’s wrist as his breath washes over his face; it’s stale, and Hiro tries to squirm out of his grip. “I don’t think you’re going anywhere, _baby.”_

“Don’t-” Hiro murmurs, shaking his head before digging his heels in and throwing his weight backwards, trying to shimmy out of the man’s grasp and there’s this _yank,_ a brief spark of pain as his hand clenches tight enough to make the fine bones in Hiro’s wrist grind together. He winces, eyes hardening into stone as he stares up at the man, this fucking _creep,_ not the first but the last who lays a hand on him and calls him _baby._

Snarling, Hiro swoops down and sinks his teeth into the back of the hand that’s so tightly clenches around his arm. There’s a low squealing, almost like a pig stuck in mud and there’s a warm flood of _good, fuck **you**_ before there’s a hand knotting in his hair and pulling hard.

Hiro can feel a growl low in his throat as he wars with the stranger, his eyes watering in pain even as he bites harder, and there’s a sudden spurt of metallic across his tongue and the hand in his hair lets go, he’s _fucking won-_ only for the same hand to dig into his face and push him away, his teeth scraping against flesh as he lets go, stumbling backwards and opening his mouth to scream, fists raised and ready to fight like a wildcat-

Two thick arms grab his own, forcing them down and holding him still and for a moment there’s a flare of _relief_ , because he always comes, he always knows when Hiro needs him and he can feel tears building at the corners of his eyes and-

“Kid, _kid,_ calm down! Shit, what the fuck _happened?!”_ it’s the barman, holding Hiro still as two bouncers already rush forward to pin the guy over the bar even as Hiro pulls against the barman’s grip. He spits as the man looks up, his own blood splattering over his nose and cheeks before he’s screaming at Hiro, foul, _disgusting_ things that make his insides tremble even as he screams back, voice breaking over the vitriol he’s spewing because he hurts and he wants to go _home._

To _Tadashi._

“Alright buddy, with me. Now.” Hiro’s dragged away, losing his feet as he’s pulled through the employee doors and into a blessedly quiet corridor. “Relax. I’m letting you out the employee entrance; that guy looks about ready to _murder_ you, boy.”

Hiro grunts. His throat aches, painful and ripped and he’s just… he’s done, for today. 

“I hope you realise this means you can’t come back here. Strict no fighting policy, buddy. You’ll have to find somewhere else.” 

“But it wasn’t my _fault-“_

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me twice; sorry you had to deal with that asshole on your own, but rules are rules, man. Sorry, but you aren’t worth my job.”

_Fine. I will._

“Come on, out you go,” the barman grumbles as he pushes open the side door into a small car-park. “Same address, just tell the cab to pick you up around back. Or hey, get that boyfriend of yours to pick you up.” With a final look that borders on pitying, he heads back inside, the door closing with a loud bang that makes Hiro jump. 

He could...he could call Tadashi. Explain what happened and hope his brother still cares about him enough to come and find him. 

Or he could walk home. It would take him a while, but it would be better than risking rejection. Again. 

Sighing, Hiro spits into the gravel near the back door; it’s tinged pink, but not a lot. 

“Better be clean, fucker…” he mutters under his breath as he starts marching, weaving through the cars and taking a moment to work out which direction he needs before heading home. 

He’s not going back to SFIT tonight. 

There’s something else he needs, first.

\------

Second verse, same as the first; he gently closes the back door, slips his shoes off and tiptoes up the stairs; only this time, there’s not Aunt Cass and Tadashi sat at the kitchen table discussing the finer points of his life; it’s empty and dark. Aunt’s Cass’ bedroom door is cracked open, an old habit from when he was too small to reach the door-handle but an all too frequent night-time visitor.

He continues to keep his steps light as he heads up to the attic, just in case Tadashi’s asleep; it’s only just gone midnight, and there’s every chance his brother could be awake. 

He’s not sure which he wants; at the least, all he wants is to sneak into the bathroom, run his wrist under cold water, swill his mouth out and feel sorry for himself. 

He’s not sure if he’ll be allowed to do any of those things.

Sighing, he pushes open the door, surprised that the room is lit with a soft glow; Tadashi usually preferred to sleep in complete darkness, which meant-

He’s awake. Tadashi’s still _awake,_ and Hiro wasn’t actually expecting this.

“Hiro?” Tadashi asks from his computer, blinking owlishly in the glare from the computer screen, his face showing complete surprise at seeing Hiro in the doorway. He’s not surprised; this is the first time he’s been home for the night in two weeks. 

But it still hurts; it’s still half _his_ bedroom, after all. 

“…Hey, buddy. Have a good night?” 

Hiro doesn’t say anything. He watches as Tadashi tries to crack a smile that falls flat abruptly as he actually looks at him. Hiro’s not sure what his face is showing, but it must be something horrific to make Tadashi looked worried like that. 

“What’s wrong?” His brother asks, spinning in his desk chair in order to face him properly. He can’t say he’s not happy about that, if in a slightly detached way. He hugs his arms to his chest, carefully wrapping opposite hand around his throbbing wrist, hiding it from Tadashi’s sight; there’s every chance his big brother will know anyway; he know Hiro better than he knows himself, after all.

Or at least, he used to.

“I...I walked home,” he says softly, unsure on whether to look at Tadashi or not. A particularly hard shiver makes him visibly shudder, a mix of the night chill and shock; now that he’s home and safe, what happened starts to sink in; the way he ripped open the back of a person’s hand because they called him _baby_ when that wasn’t their word to use. 

It was Tadashi’s, and he wants to hear it so _badly_ but he’s...he’s too tired. Too tired to fight with his older brother. 

“I’m cold, Tadashi.” his voice sounds flat to his own ears, even as he tries to look at his brother, at least tell him with his eyes that he’s here, he’s not confused or drunk or not himself-

He’s just Hiro, and he needs his big brother. Tadashi seems to realise that before he even finishes speaking; he pushes himself out of his chair in a flurry of movement, and Hiro chances a glance up to see that he’s shrugging out of his cardigan, approaching him slowly like he was approaching a wounded animal; one that could snap and bite at him at any moment.

He doesn’t hesitate to step close enough to pull the warm wool over Hiro’s shoulders, hands smoothing it over his shoulders as Tadashi stays close, attempting to look into Hiro’s face.

“I can see that.” He comments quietly. “Here...maybe it’s time to get ready for bed, huh, bud? It’ll be nice and warm.”

Hiro nods at the suggestion, but he can’t bring himself to move, not when the cardigan around his shoulders is still warm from Tadashi’s body heat, when it smells of the cologne his brother likes to use and the faintly fruity soap he buys for their bathroom and he just-

Hiro takes a couple of steps forward, closer and closer until his forehead is pressed against Tadashi’s collarbone, his scent stronger and warmer and it’s _everything_ he needs right now, every comfort he could ever think of rolled into one heady smell that makes up everything he associates with home. 

“...In a sec. Okay?” He mutters against his brother’s shoulder, arms pulling the cardigan tighter around him. 

It’s been weeks. It’s been so long since he’s been able to approach Tadashi like this. No alcohol or emotions to addle his brain and make things broken and difficult; just Hiro being able to press his face as closely to his brother’s throat as he can, where his essence is strongest and just...breathe. Just breathe for a moment.

To his credit, Tadashi only freezes for a second. Just a second; because the fact that Hiro even wants to approach him like this again is probably so unbelievable it-

“Okay,” Tadashi whispers softly, his arms coming up to wrap around Hiro as his older brother rests his chin on his shoulder. He’s rubbing soothing circles into his back, hands large and warm and very much the opposite of what he’d felt earlier in the night. There’s no-one who can replicate this. No-one comes even _close._

Could he do it? Could be go back to just...being this? Bury the feelings that even now he can feel pulsing somewhere behind his heart, the empty void in him slowly filling with something thick and warm that is just _Tadashi-_

He doesn’t know. He just doesn’t know. It’s natural to be here, in the circle of his brother’s arms...but it’s also not quite _right_. Not anymore. 

Hiro sighs gently against his brother’s skin before he pushes back slightly, Tadashi’s arms falling from his back and rising up to squeeze his shoulders. He tries to smile; he wonders if Tadashi can hear his own words _(Don’t **ever** fucking touch me again)_ as loudly in his ears as he can. 

“I’m...I’m gonna go brush my teeth, then I’ll come to bed. Yeah?” He doesn’t think he can face the night alone, not when his ribs feel flayed open and every emotion is clear and obvious on his face.

“I-- yeah. Give me a few minutes to finish the-” Tadashi waves over at the computer, smile shaky and words failing him. He nods before heading to the bathroom, a foul taste in his mouth and his wrist throbbing. Hiro takes his time; He thinks he brushes his teeth three separate times, rinsing each different time with mouthwash and water. Anything to get the taste of blood out of his mouth, before washing the dark eyeliner from his lids. 

He meets his own eye in the mirror, face pale and eyes tired. In the harsh light of the bathroom, he can see how there are four red imprints circling his left wrist; they’ll be purple by morning. 

Aunt Cass always did say he bruised like a peach. He can’t help but tilt his jaw to the side, Tadashi’s hickey still obvious against the side of his neck. His brother’s never bought it up. 

But then, Hiro’s never given him the time to. 

Closing their bathroom door behind him, Hiro sees his brother silhouette behind the paper screen; changing for bed, he thinks.

“Won’t be long, Hiro,” Tadashi calls softly. “Just get under the covers and warm up a little.” 

Snorting as he reaches up to pull his own sweaty shirt off, Hiro pitches it into the corner of the room before pulling an oversized shirt from his own drawers and pulling it on. His shoulder pops out of the baggy neck; it’s the SFIT shirt Tadashi was given in his first year; an extra-large, due to his brother getting too enthralled in the labs and missing orienteering. The huge shirts were the only ones left. 

Shrugging, Hiro forgoes looking for pyjama pants and pulls the shirt low over his thighs.

 _Tadashi has seen,_ he thinks to himself humourlessly, _much worse._

He pads over to Tadashi’s side of the room again, leaning against the wall and using two fingers to push the partition back an inch; Tadashi’s pulling on a henley, and he decides that his brother’s decent enough before pushing it back enough for him to squeeze through.

“C’mon, ‘Dashi. I’m tired.” He weaves past his brother before pulling back the blankets to his bed and sliding into them, holding them up to allow Tadashi to join him. “...You’re coming. Right?”

“Unless you’ve decided that we’re switching beds for the night, then yeah, I’m coming.” Tadashi leaves the desk lamp on in his side of the room, because once the partition is closed, it’s more than dark enough for the both of them. Tadashi walks up to the bed and sits on the edge before telling Hiro to scoot over.

His brother’s bed isn’t that big. When Tadashi gets in, the choices available are sleeping uncomfortably on the very edge of the mattress, or curling in close to him. Tadashi chooses to take the latter option; they’ve done this before. He lifts Hiro’s pillow up before resting an arm beneath it, the appendage fitting comfortably against the curve of Hiro’s neck when he lies back down. 

Hiro settles quickly; it’s like falling into a hot bath or old chair. The way Tadashi’s chest lines up with his spine is natural, as is the way his brother kicks an ankle between his legs as his arm wraps securely around his waist.

“...Should come home more often; it’s hard to sleep without you.” The words are breathed out against the back of his neck as Tadashi pulls him a little closer, pressing his nose to Hiro’s skin. 

Reaching up, Hiro traces the lines on Tadashi’s palm, the hand under his head turned upwards. He could tangle their fingers together, if he wanted to...and he does. He _really_ does. 

“...I know,” Hiro murmurs softly, his fingers gentle as they stroke over his brothers nails, tickling across the backs of his own digits before he slowly slides his fingers into the spaces. He’s always loved how perfectly their palms fit together, how easily their jagged edges align.

“...It’s hard, though.” Hiro’s words are soft, under his breath and half on a sigh; he’s trying to talk to his brother, _god_ he’s trying, but he’s so comfortable; warm and safe, and he thinks that if Tadashi suddenly moves away from him now, he’d never recover. 

The thought makes him curl tighter into the curve of his brother’s body. Tadashi sighs as he lets his cheek press against his skin. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whispers softly. “I’m so sorry…” 

Hiro’s breath catches, just a little. He can feel his heart squeezing, like there are iron bands wrapped around the muscle, matching the ones that constrict his lungs and make it impossible for him to breathe. _Baby._

_Tadashi’s baby._

He sniffs, eyes closing for a moment. Soaking in the heat of his brother at his back, the way his apologies are breathed into his hair, the way his hands shake and he can’t see Tadashi’s _face-_

Hiro manages to turn in the circle of his brother’s limbs, rearranging his head on the pillow so he’s not crushing his brother’s arm before pushing his leg through Tadashi’s, tangling their lower limbs slowly before raising his eyes to look at his brother. 

He’s crying. 

“Sssh…” Hiro soothes as his hand comes up to thumb away the tears, touch soft and gentle before he presses their foreheads together. His eyes are half-open, honey-brown and sleepy as he carefully looks at Tadashi’s face; he can see the way his brother’s lashes cling together. 

“I’m here, too. I’m right here,” he murmurs; he’s always found the words comforting, maybe it’ll help his brother. His thumb brushes back and forth across Tadashi’s cheek, even as his breath shakes in his chest. 

All the anger...all the heartbreak and bitterness he’s been feeling over the last couple weeks...he can shelf it. Maybe only for tonight, but he can. 

He can be there for Tadashi, too. 

“It’s gonna be okay...I promise, ‘Dashi… It’s gonna be okay…” he breathes the words against his brother’s mouth, with no intention of bridging the gap; this is enough. This is more than enough.

Tadashi’s hand comes up to mirror his own, fitting to his cheek and despite the wetness of his eyes, his older brother doesn’t look away. He seems to steel himself, licking his lips and making sure that Hiro’s meeting his eyes before he opens his mouth.

“You’re the world to me.”

Hiro’s lips part around a shaking breath as he pushes his forehead harder against his brother’s. He’s searching his Tadashi’s eyes for something, _anything_ that would indicate doubt...there’s nothing. Absolutely nothing that makes Hiro think that Tadashi doesn’t believe what he’s saying. 

“I…” There are so many things he wants to say, to ask; why’s, when’s, statements and facts, pain and pleasure and it all combines on his tongue and render him mute. All he can do is breathe in as his brother breathes out, everything shared between them and it’s...it’s _everything_ he’s ever wanted. 

Ever _needed._

“I...I need you, ‘Dashi.” his voice sounds small, broken. His eyes fill with tears, almost as if there’s too much inside him and it needs to overflow, his love for the boy who holds him and he hates that he loves him, hates the _pain_ that it causes- 

“I need you so badly, ‘Dashi. I can’t, I-” _I can’t do this without you. I don’t know how._

“We’ll work it out,” Tadashi breathes back, voice sure and reassuring despite the way it shakes. “You and me; we’ll work it out. We always do, huh? It’ll be okay…”

Tadashi wraps him up in his arms, shifting a little higher so he can hide his face in his messy fluff of hair. Hiro can feel his brother breathing softly against his head, nuzzling his face into the softness of his hair. “Just get some sleep, baby. We’ll work it out…we’re going to be alright…” 

Hiro presses his face to his brother’s neck, shoulders shaking with tears that he refuses to let falls. He’s tired. Sad. 

He just wants to stay here, wrapped up in his brother’s arms, forever. 

“...Something bad happened tonight,” he whispers to Tadashi’s neck, like a secret; he almost hopes his brother doesn’t hear him, but the words are already in his mouth and he can’t swallow them back down. “...I was scared. I fought, and I…”

Sighing, he closes his eyes and fists a hand in his brother’s shirt, over his racing heart. 

“...I needed you, ‘Dashi. I needed you there.” 

It’s like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders; a lightness in his chest that robs him of any leftover nervous energy and leaves him completely fatigued. 

He presses his face against his brother’s neck, lips slightly parted against his skin as his senses fill with the comforting scent of Tadashi and he falls into sleep, as sweet and light as a feather drifting to the ground.

Hiro’s last conscious thought is that he thinks he feels Tadashi shaking as he holds him. He’s asleep before he can confirm it and by morning, it’s forgotten.

\------

Hiro knows before he even opens his eyes that he’s alone, and has been for a while; he rolls across the bed, his mind subconsciously reaching for a warm body and finds only cold sheets. 

He stares at the empty space beside him, hand flat across the cold mattress, and wonders if anyone would miss him, if he just...didn’t get up. Ever. 

He manages to push himself into sitting, legs loosely crossed with his hands in his lap. He stares down at them, not really seeing or taking in the sight before his eyes narrow on his wrist; four purple strips, wrapped around his arm like a wristband. He pokes at the marks half-heartedly and there’s a dull ache. 

Chances are, it’ll take a week for them to heal. Hiro wonders when it became commonplace for him to see damage littering his own skin. 

He finally gets up, bare feet cold on the wooden floor before he heads downstairs, hair a mess and legs still bare; the shirts long enough to keep him decent and he...doesn’t really want to spend time finding some pajama pants. He wants a drink; water or something.

Tadashi’s stood at the kitchen counter again, his hands loose around a mug of something. Hiro doesn’t make the same mistake as last time; doesn’t try to touch him, to bring him close and soothe him with words that would mean something to him, but don’t to his brother.

If Tadashi wants to pretend that last night didn’t happen, just like _all_ the other times, then that’s fine. Hiro can lie, too. 

He says nothing as he stands beside his brother, reaching up to open the cupboards and pull down a glass, his thoughts distracted. 

He doesn’t realise he’s reached for the glass with the hand that shows evidence of the previous night.

“Hiro.” Tadashi’s hand reaches out, grasping his fingers before they can close around one, drawing his arm down and frowning at the distinctive marks, his brow furrowing.

“When are you going to stop doing this to yourself..?” The words are accusing, even if his tone isn’t. “One of these days it isn’t going to just be bruises; you’ll get seriously hurt, and then what are you going to do? It’s not worth going out there just for a bit of fun and some free drinks when it always ends up like this.”

Hiro bites his lip, his eyes flicking from Tadashi’s face to his own hand, back and forth as he attempts to pull away; Tadashi’s firm, firm enough to keep him there but not enough to mark him. 

It makes Hiro...furious. 

“...It’s not _every_ time, and I took care of it. Just...just lay off, man.” Hiro pulls again, his movement sharp. He may as well not have tried at all. 

“...Why do you even care, anyway?” he asks bluntly, standing straight and trying to be taller than he actually is, despite the fact he still has to tilt his head in order to meet Tadashi’s eyes. His voice is soft. Dangerous.

Tadashi’s eye narrow, his arms crossing over his chest, not needing to make himself taller in some display of physical intimidation; he’s already got a few inches on Hiro. 

“When have I ever needed a reason to _care,_ Hiro? You needed me there, remember? Your words, not mine.” 

Hiro can feel himself shaking; anger, potent and thick, making his hands ball up at his sides. 

“Yeah, well, you _weren’t,_ so I took care of it. You don’t get to pull this defensive bull on me the day after.” He can hear his voice rising, still below a shout because the last thing he wants is for Aunt Cass to hear them, but his voice trembles. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I forgot to turn my _sixth sense on,_ last night,” his brother shoots back sarcastically, visibly bristling at Hiro’s accusations. 

“...Is that even what this is about? I mean, _really?”_

He raises his chin, tilts his head to the side; he knows he’s not playing fair, throwing the bite that Tadashi regrets in his face but he’s just so...so done.

He watches as Tadashi’s jaw goes slack, disbelief clear on his face before his teeth clench painfully, a vein throbbing in his neck. Hiro can almost hear him grinding his teeth.

Hiro expects him to start shouting. What actually happens is much worse. 

“Do what you want, then.” Tadashi’s tone is flat when he finally responds, turning away like he can’t even _look_ at him anymore. “But don’t expect me to magically appear every time you’re in trouble; you’re not a kid anymore- like you keep reminding me.”

“So, what, that’s it?” Hiro huffs, a humourless chuckle as he shakes his head. He’s not leaving it like this; he’s got a _fucking point_ to make and if his brother’s not going to take it then he’ll fucking _make him._

“So what you’re saying-” he growls as he stomps after his brother, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around before backing him into the kitchen table, hands fisted into his shirt and stance wide in order to stop the older boy escaping, “-is that _this_ is not okay-” he waves his arm in Tadashi’s face. 

“But _this_ is, because _you did it.”_ He points to the fading bruise high on his neck, holding his brother’s gaze and not letting him look away. “If it’s _you,_ then it’s fine, right? Well, then, here! Cover up the _fucking evidence again,_ if it’ll make you feel better!” He grabs Tadashi’s hand and forces it over his wrist. 

He needs to stop; this is playing with fire, poking a sleeping bear. But he can’t. He just _can’t._ He’s so lost and heartbroken and frustrated and it’s all he can do to hammer buttons until something clicks, until the board lights up and Tadashi fucking _understands._

Tadashi looks like he’s about to be _sick;_ his face pales as he desperately tries to avoid Hiro’s eyes by closing his own as he swallows slowly. 

“…I can’t do this,” Tadashi finally whispers, eyes opening and almost looking _past_ Hiro, his brother’s hands coming up to close around his as they carefully untangle his fingers from the shirt he’s holding in a death-grip before almost _gently_ pushing him away. 

Hiro stares up at him with his mouth open, disbelieve clear on his face.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” Tadashi’s hands shake as he makes for the stairs on unsteady legs, his pace brisk as he runs. Up the stairs. Away from _him._ No fire, no anger, no _response._

It’s like he can’t even see him, and Hiro feels it; feels like he’s losing his own essence, his very being going transparent as the breeze rattles through his ribs and freezes him from the inside. 

_Not you. Anyone but you, Tadashi please don’t shut me out-_

“Don’t you walk away from me,” he growls, his anger easier to direct than heartbreak; easier to form into a dagger to drive into his brother’s retreating back. “Don’t you _dare_ walk away from me, you _coward.”_

Hiro jogs to catch up, following his brother as a wolf follows a wounded deer, nipping at his heels even as his words bruise worse than anything anyone could ever do to _him._

“I may be a lot of things, Tadashi Hamada,” Hiro says with a shaking voice, slamming their bedroom door behind him, forgetting about his aunt sleeping downstairs. “But at least I’m not a fucking _liar.”_ He lets the words hang in the air before continuing his attack. 

“There’s something wrong with you. Tell me what it is. Now.”

Hiro’s still advancing when Tadashi turns on him, eyes wide and almost _panicked,_ his words not soft or controlled like they usually are, but near enough _screamed,_ as if they’re being ripped out of him-

 _“I don’t fucking **CARE** anymore!”_ Tadashi’s voice rips out of him, the edges jagged, sharp and aimed for his brother. _“I don’t care!_ Tell me; what’s wrong with you, huh?! How the fuck did you get this _messed up,_ because God, I tried.” 

_What’s wrong with me?_

Hiro stares, his heart hammering against his ribs and he’s scared, scared of his own brother for the first time in eighteen years and he feels like he’s falling apart because this? Being told that his own big brother doesn’t _care_ about him is enough to leave him shattered on the floor; too broken to ever be put back together again.

_I love you. I love you so much it hurts; I want your skin, your touch, your scent, your **taste** and I can’t- _

“I’m...I’m not-” Hiro stammers, stepping back away from his brother, hand reaching out for the door-handle because he’s suddenly _terrified to be alone with his brother_. He feels the cold touch of brass against his fingers as Tadashi delivers the final blow and Hiro freezes. Completely comes to a stand-still, unable to comprehend what Tadashi is screaming at him.

His brother’s got a fisted hand in his hair, close to ripping it out as he wheels around to face him. “Go! Get out; go drink your life away. I don’t. Care.”

His hand comes up without his say so, curls into a fist and catches Tadashi’s cheekbone, knocking his brother to the side. There’s a flare of pain; he’s split his knuckles, but it’s nothing compared to the way he feels insides; he’s _bleeding out._

“....Fine. Okay, Tadashi, I’ll...I’ll go.” He hates the weakness in his voice, hates how hollow it sounds. Still, he pulls the door open and goes, closing it slowly behind him before stumbling down the stairs, unable to see through the tears that fall down his face. 

He thinks he walks into Aunt Cass, who tries to cling to him, hold him back but he keeps walking, down the stairs and out of the door. He’s dressed in an oversized t-shirt on their back-porch and he just...he doesn’t care. 

He sits on the step. He sits on the step until Cass finds him an hour later, when he quietly asks her for his phone, and a change of clothes. 

He’s going to Amina’s. He can stay there. If not, there’s SFIT. 

At this point, a cardboard box in an alleyway is preferable to his own _home._

_I’m in love you, Tadashi._

_Why is that wrong?_

\------

Hiro finds himself at a new club that very night. 

He just...he needs to forget for a while; forget that the only family he has doesn’t care whether he lives or dies. Needs to forget that the person he’s in love with will never love him back. He needs to forget that all the hopes and dreams he’s ever had hinged on Tadashi’s approval, and he no longer has that. Never again. 

He just needs to forget. For tonight, he knows how. He’ll deal with the morning, and every night thereafter when it gets there. 

For now, he’s lost in the haze of alcohol, the haze of another person’s heat as their hands run over his body. They’re gentle, which is nice, he supposes. Not that he feels like he should be treated like he’s precious. 

It’s obvious he’s not. 

The person, a small girl who’s grabbing his hands and putting them on her body kisses him forcibly, giving him her all and he just...he doesn’t care. She looks offended when he pushes her off, but he simply shrugs and weaves his way through the crowd. 

He could do with another drink. He can still remember Tadashi’s name. 

He’s long since stopped looking to the door. Even if Tadashi knew where he was, he wouldn’t come. Hiro’s well and truly alone. 

And he put himself there.

He’s already half-way to the bar when a hand closes _hard_ around his bruised wrist, pulling him back and putting him eye-to-eye with a pair he knows all too well.

“One night; just one night, can I _not find you in a place like this!?”_

Hiro hates that the first thing he feels at seeing his brother on the other end of his arm is joy; a warmth that fills him even when he can remember the shit-storm of that day. He just...he’s so _glad_ to see him. 

Even though it’s obvious that Tadashi isn’t overjoyed to be there himself, his hand tight over Hiro’s existing bruises and the dull flare of pain joins a spark of arousal. 

_Good. Touch me. I don’t care how, just hold me-_

“You didn’t have to come find me,” Hiro purrs into his brother’s ear, grabbing his hands and putting them on his hips as he backs slowly onto the dancefloor, one hand on the back of his brother’s neck as he drags him into the throngs of people, the base slow even as Hiro rocks to it, forcing Tadashi to press his forehead against his own; he’s reckless, he’s desperate and sick and he’s past caring; Tadashi’s here, on _his_ turf, and he’ll play by his rules. 

Tadashi follows him like a man starved and lets his hands do as they will, one squeezing his hip as the other runs up the curve of his waist, expression drawn into a tight frown.

“What brings you here anyway, _brother?”_ he says slowly into the shared air between them, his tongue flicking out to lick the corner of his Tadashi’s mouth; he likes the shine, a small mark that he will wear for the next few moments and it’s enough.

“Not this. I came to talk to you.”

Tadashi jerks, ducking his head away to murmur into his ear, as if he’s trying to avoid Hiro’s affection, adamant on not giving him that opportunity again. “Can we talk? Somewhere else.”

Hiro hums, as if he's thinking over what Tadashi said despite already having discarded his brother’s words. The hand on the back of his brother’s neck travels up into his hair, the touch gentle.

“See, every time we talk recently, we fight,” he murmurs against Tadashi’s lips, brushing them with his own whilst his other hand is busy pushing his older brothers up under his shirt so he can feel his fingers against the skin of his back. “This….this is the only time we get it _right.”_

The hand in Tadashi’s hair is suddenly rough, pulling his brother’s head back as Hiro closes his lips over the side of his neck, kissing the skin gently almost in apology before biting, groaning into the action as he sucks harshly. _I had a reminder for weeks. Your turn, ‘Dashi._

“Hiro, I’m serious. This is impo-” When his head is wrenched to the side and his skin is assaulted, Tadashi freezes. Completely paralyzed, his fingers twitch at Hiro’s sides and he _loves it._

He can’t stop, can’t pull away from the taste of his brother’s skin, even as he pushes forward with his hips; it’s not _enough,_ not enough as Tadashi just...lets him do what he’s doing and he needs a reaction, needs to feel the affection and arousal he knows is under the surface, flowing through his brother just as much as it is through him. 

Breaking away with a soft pop, he surveys his handiwork for a moment before grabbing Tadashi’s face and forcing their lips together, pushing past his brother’s defences so he can lick into his mouth, demanding attention.

There’s a moment of delay before Tadashi is _surging_ forwards to ensure that their lips are meeting as solidly as possible, no gaps to let any sounds they’re making escape. He palms at Hiro’s ass and Hiro’s _whining,_ high and loud into Tadashi’s mouth as his hands travel lower, rough as his hips are pulled forward to meet his brothers, rolling into a heavy drag of denim and it makes him gasp because _shit,_ this is what he wants, Tadashi so desperate to make him his and he _wants it,_ wants to be claimed and held and _owned_ by his own brother- 

His brother, whose hips are thrusting forwards as if he wants to make it _really fucking clear_ that if he could, he’d be tearing off those pants and making a scene that gets Hiro banned for the second night in a row.

He breaks the kiss enough to gasp into the air between them, hands clenched tightly in his brothers hair even as their hips continue to move in tandem and he _needs to get off the dancefloor and somewhere quiet,_ somewhere he can drag Tadashi and throw him against the wall and show him just how _clever and hot_ his mouth can be. 

“Come with me.” Not a request, a _demand._ He grabs his brother’s hand and drags him down one of the corridors, eyes looking for a place they can hide even as he can feel Tadashi’s gaze hot on his body behind him… He just needs somewhere they can _be together_ and he finally spots the bathrooms, right at the end and it’s not ideal but it’s better than being on show- 

There’s no-one around, thank _god,_ no queue and Hiro wrenches the door open, dragging Tadashi inside and slamming the door shut behind them. 

As soon as he slides the bolt across, he turns, chest rising and falling, already reaching for his brother who’s _right there,_ shoving him back against the door and wrenching his thighs apart with his hands as he palms over Hiro’s obvious erection. Tadashi’s breathing heavily into his ear, pressing sloppy kisses to his neck and the hinge of his jaw as his voice.

“Moan. _Moan for me, Hiro.”_ Tadashi’s voice is as low and dark as crushed velvet, sending a path of fire through Hiro’s body as he does as he’s told; pathetic, high-pitched and directly into Tadashi’s ear, rocking his hips into his brother’s hand as his own slips down the back of his brother’s shirt, fingers clawing into the skin of his back. 

He’s already a quivering mess, legs weak and breathing ragged as he connects their mouths once more, hopping up in order to wrap his legs around his brother’s waist, trusting that Tadashi will hold him up and it’s like before, that _first time,_ that feeling of being tacked up like a cheap poster only to be torn back down and dear god he wants to be _wrecked_ by his brother. Tadashi’s got his mouth attached to his neck, sucking the mark on his neck back to life as his hands squeeze his ass, moans low and guttural. 

“Ta- Ta- _fuck,”_ he pants desperately into his brother’s hair, his hips a constant rut against his brothers; he can feel Tadashi’s dick pressing hard against his own and he wants _more,_ wants more than Tadashi is giving him- 

As quick as he jumps up, the younger boy lowers his shaky legs back to the floor; Tadashi’s nails scratching bluntly against the backs of Hiro's thighs as grabs his older brother around the waist and spins him, slamming his back into the door before falling to his knees. 

He pulls his shirt up, nails scratching through the light hair that covers his navel, pointing downwards to where Hiro _really_ wants to be as he pops the button of Tadashi’s jeans, mouthing at his hipbones as he lowers his trousers and underwear just enough to get at his dick; he circles his hand around the base, and it’s the _first time_ he’s touched Tadashi like this and he whines. 

“Tadashi I want- ‘Dashi, can I-” he pants out, pumping him once, twice, looking up at him from between his knees, licking his lips to get his point across. His brother’s hands are rough, grasping at his hair and pulling him forwards until the tip of his cock is brushing against velvet lips. Hiro hears Tadashi hiss at the sensation.

“Do it.” His voice is gravelled, hard… just as reckless as Hiro’s.

Hiro whimpers softly at the rough command in Tadashi’s voice before he’s opening his lips around his brother’s length and sucking the tip into his mouth. There’s a sharp, salty burst on his tongue, strange and _new_ and he mewls around the hard length resting between his lips. 

Cautious, careful, he lowers his mouth as far down Tadashi’s dick as he can comfortably take; he takes care to keep his teeth safely away from his brother’s skin, his hand massaging and rubbing the part of Tadashi’s cock he can’t fit into his mouth. 

Moaning, he sucks off the end with a sharp _pop,_ running his tongue along the thick vein that runs up the bottom of his length, peering up at Tadashi’s face even as his brother directs him back to his navel, hands rough in his hair and Hiro _adores_ it, because it’s him making Tadashi fall apart like this, he’s the only person he’s done this for and he’s the only one he _wants_ to do this for- 

Pressing a wet kiss to the head of his dick, Hiro begins bobbing his head faster, hollowing his cheeks around his brother’s flesh and sucking _hard._ There’s another spurt of precum, bitter, and he moans wantonly around him, hands gripping his brother’s hips to stop him from fucking his face. 

Yet. He doesn’t know if he has a gag reflex or not, but he’s not eager to find out with a stomach full of alcohol that’s rolling with lust. 

He palms his own dick roughly through his jeans, fingers teasing at the buttons, his mind wondering absently if Tadashi would get off to seeing him come from his own hand and sucking his dick.

Only one way to find out.

He can hear Tadashi moaning above him; strings of random syllables that are he thinks supposed to be his name but sound nothing like it as he throws his head back against the door, wood shuddering from just how hard he does so.

Hiro’s so caught up in the taste of his brother and the weight of his dick as he risks taking it further in, the head butting against his palate and making him splutter that he almost misses the words Tadashi groans out into the air…

“You’re such a _whore.”_

Whore.

Hiro blinks, his thoughts slowly as his mouth does, hands falling from Tadashi’s hips slowly as the tip of his cock butts against his slack slips as it falls from his mouth. 

“You….you think I’m a whore.” It’s not a question. He knows exactly what he heard. He can feel his heart fracturing, breaking because his brother sees him as- 

“I’m...I’m just a wet mouth to you. Aren’t I?” He stares up at his brother, face shell-shocked and blank. He can barely believe it; can barely comprehend the words. “You...you think that I drop to my knees for _anyone,_ don’t you?” 

He’s angry. Oh, he’s so very angry. But more than that, he’s hurt. Heartbroken. 

The person he loves most in the world thinks so _little_ of him. 

He feels _dirty. Used._

Hiro scrambles to his feet, tears forming in his eyes as he brushes his jeans off, grabbing Tadashi’s arms to pull him out of the way even as his brother grabs him in return, having tucked himself away and his own face showing shock and horror at his own words. 

“Hiro, I didn’t mean it, I-“

“If you didn’t mean it, you wouldn’t have said it. I understand _perfectly._ Now get out of the way.” He’s holding it together, somehow. But not much longer. 

“Hiro, please-” 

“Get the _fuck out of the way.”_

“Please, baby, just lis-” 

“Don’t.” He snaps, tears falling at the word, _their_ word, the only one that made it all okay- “Don’t you _fucking call me your baby.”_ He’s not going to hit him again; Aunt Cass always told him his brain would get him out of more fights than his fists ever could- 

But it’s so hard not to. Fisting his hands into his brother’s shirt, he throws his weight back with a pained cry, swinging Tadashi around and away from the door as his brother stumbles, falling to the dirty floor as Hiro stands over him, hands clamped over his mouth as he openly sobs, the sound heartbroken and cracked even as Tadashi scrambles to his feet, tears making their way down his own cheeks. He reaches out for him and Hiro lashes out, chest heaving. 

_“Don’t you dare,”_ he sobs out, reaching for the door-handle, slicing his finger on the small bolt before turning it and flinging the door open; it’s still deserted, meaning no-one can see how broken he is. 

“For the record,” he manages to choke out, turning to stare at his brother, mouth open and eyes red, “There’s no-one else. There’s _never been anyone else. I’m in love with you, you fucking idiot.”_

Raking a hand through his hair, he laughs at himself, the sound wet and choked. 

“But it doesn’t matter; once a _whore,_ right bro?” 

He can’t look at him; won’t look at him as he turns heel and runs, running _again always running away,_ pushing past people even as his vision blurs and he can’t breathe past the hysterical sobs that are falling from his mouth. 

He barges past the bouncers, picks a direction and _runs,_ tripping over his own feet and staggering before regaining momentum. He almost runs into a lamppost and swerves to avoid it, twisting his ankle and yelling out in pain before he falls, hands thrown out to break his fall. 

He skins his palms, but it doesn’t matter. He sits in the gutter and _screams_ as he feels himself break and doesn’t care about picking up the pieces.

\------

Tadashi’s halfway out the bathroom stall when his pants catch around his knees. Cursing, he fumbles to get them up but even before they’re on his hips, he knows; he’s not going to catch Hiro now. Not when Hiro doesn’t want to be caught.

Fuck.

_Fuck._

_There’s no-one else. There’s never been anyone else. I’m **in love with you,** you fucking idiot. _

The urgency leaves his body, leaving Tadashi with a numb sense of shock and terror. He’s terrified; for Hiro, god knows where by now and only getting further away as the seconds go by. He’s terrified of what could happen to him...horrified at what’s already happened to him.

_I’m **in love with you,** you fucking idiot._

His reflection leers back at him from the dirty mirror above the sink, stark and ugly in the harsh lighting, and Tadashi’s fist flies, the sound of the mirror shattering louder than his own screams.

_I’m in love with you._

It’s well past closing before any of the staff knock on the stall door, less than politely kicking out the broken, bloody man who’s been sitting on the tiles all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...We're so sorry.
> 
> Birds: Me and Annie spend literally hours picking out the perfect song for each chapter (no, I'm not joking. Hours.) and it's a little sad to me that some of you may not get to enjoy that as much as we do, because the songs we choose are amazingly fitting for what we're writing about.
> 
> If you feel like it, take the time to check this [playlist out!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UmO392JGhWg&list=PLNP9WsuVDXrEd9J6YC5Dr_3bd3PWBRLuF) I'll be updating it along with each chapter, as well, so you'll never have to worry about missing any songs!
> 
> If you want to scream at Annie and tell her she's a complete monster, you can find her Tumblr [here,](http://annie-mantic.tumblr.com/) and if you sympathize with Bird and want to cry together, you can find her Tumblr [here.](http://lockandkeyblade.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Give us your thoughts. We're interested to hear them. Just be...mindful, of what conclusions you draw regarding Hiro and Tadashi; there's a lot behind the scenes that's subtly hinted at through most of the chapters. Trust us, and remember that. 
> 
> See you next time!


	4. Can't Take Back The Words I Never Said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pushing away from his desk, Tadashi stands, not bothering to stretch out the stiffness in his lower back before falling down into his bedsheets, exhausted. Tonight was already a big enough waste of time; the very least he could do was try and use the rest of it to get some sleep.
> 
> But a thought hangs over his head for hours, leaving him to stare at the ceiling for longer than he would’ve liked.
> 
>  
> 
> _I could’ve wished him happy birthday, at least._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well you kids have been so good about giving us such a big response in such a short amount of time, we decided to spoil you!
> 
> We're liars. 
> 
> We just want to get to chapter five so you can all suffer more. This is the beginning of a descent that will be a long time coming back up. Get comfortable. Grab some tissues and a bucket of ice-cream.
> 
> You thought previous chapters were bad? This is where **everything changes.**
> 
> Enjoy. 
> 
> **IMPORTANT NOTE:** Hover your mouse over me!

[ Can't Take Back The Words I Never Said ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LOsOynOl8cE)

* * *

**So many questions**

**But I'm talking to myself**

**I know that you can't hear me anymore.**

**Not anymore.**

**\- Skylar Grey (Words - A.N.O Remix)**

* * *

It’s hot. It’s hot and wet and he’s never even _imagined this_ before, never looked at his brother and thought about seeing him on his knees. Hiro’s- special. Important. They’re equals first and foremost, and in his mind, it’s always been about the way they tear at each other’s clothes, the way Hiro clutches at him. The way he opens up when Tadashi asks him to-- not this.

On a whim, he could easily break the grip of those shaky hands on his hips and thrust, body shaking with the urge not to. Tadashi moans-- strings of random syllables that are supposed to be Hiro’s name but sound nothing like it as he throws his head back against the door, wood shuddering from just how hard he does so.

Head spinning, Tadashi gasps up at the ceiling, trying to collect enough air to gather himself before he looks down; watching Hiro’s mouth move up and down his cock before pulling off for a moment, allowing him a teasing glimpse of what his brother’s hand is up to between his own thighs. Touching himself. Getting off on what he’s doing, right now.

Getting off on the fact that he’s sucking someone’s cock and again, the question spins dizzily through his mind; _Who else has he done this for?_ Who else has Hiro gone down on; let his knees hit a dirty bathroom stall floor, or the rough gravel of an alleyway? Who else has gripped his hair like this, who hasn’t been kind enough to keep their hips from moving?

Who taught Hiro that letting others treat him...like this, was okay?

He did.

Tadashi groans, licking his lips and tugging sharply at the hair clutched between his fingers, voice shaking as he blurts out careless words, too in lust with the situation to worry about what he’s saying. Too foggy minded to curb his words into something that actually makes sense. “You’re such a whore…”

“You….you think I’m a _whore.”_

_I didn’t mean it like that._

_I never meant to say that._

_I’m so sorry._

\------

Putting off potential buyers of his patent wasn’t so much for the mental break as it was to ensure, in his rather distracted state, that he wasn’t getting ripped off. The downside to it all was that to take his time, he had to have something to show for it. An improvement. Some adjustments. To a machine that was practically his child, and if Tadashi was modestly honest with himself, could probably be mass produced tomorrow and make the world a better place.

The dozen or so blueprints spread in front of him weren’t encouraging, either. Full of scribbled, half finished ideas, abandoned before they were even pursued. He’s hitting a blank with every new angle, chin propped on the back of his hand as he stares vaguely out the window.

He just doesn’t have the attention span for this. Between the cafe, his friends, and a half dozen appointments all over the city in the past two weeks, Tadashi hasn’t even had the time. Aunt Cass and his friends, bless them all, are trying to keep him busy, sure, but-

Sometimes he wants to ask to be left alone. 

His heart isn’t in it, lately.

Sighing, Tadashi leans back, giving the clock a quick glance. It’s only eight, but that’s late enough to get changed and fall into bed. Maybe with a good night’s sleep, he could find some inspiration. Work this over, somehow. That was a new angle.

...No it wasn’t. That was the same angle he’d been trying for the past five days. It hadn’t been working for him so far.

“Woman up, Hamada.” He mutters mirthlessly, snatching up his pencil. He raps it against the desk tunelessly, not so much acting as he is waiting. Waiting for an idea to come to mind. Waiting for a fix to fall into his lap.

Sounds like most of his life at the moment.

Tadashi almost misses the way Hiro storms into the room, throwing the door open and making no attempt to be quiet; hurricane Hiro, wild and aggressive. As usual.

Despite this, his presence is an absolute beacon; jumpstarting Tadashi’s mind from the moment he walks into the room. For a moment, the older male forgets, a smile beginning to form on his lips, his brother’s name on the verge of slipping out-

Hiro marches right past him to his dresser drawers, opening them with a sharp snap. Collecting a shirt and a pair of jeans, he folds them over his arms, shoving at the contents within to get it closed again. 

He doesn’t look up for a moment.

Tadashi’s mouth closes.

_But it doesn’t matter; once a **whore**_

_Right bro?_

Wrong.

“Hiro.” The word is difficult to get out; like sandpaper on his tongue. It’s the first time saying his little brother’s name has been so- wrong. “..Going out tonight?”

Hiro huffs humorlessly as he puts the clothes on the end of his bed before kneeling to scramble under his desk for- something.

“...Of all the things you could say to me, that’s what you decide on?” Hiro says shortly from under the table; Tadashi assumes he’s trying to find a pair of shoes from the disorganised mess of footwear under there. Hiro slowly drags himself out from under the furniture, boots in hand as he picks up his stuff and turns to Tadashi, one hand on his hip. 

“Yeah. I’m going out tonight. What’s it to you?” 

Every ounce of bravery in him flies out the window.

Hiro got a lip piercing. Of course he looks at it; wondering when and _why_ Hiro had gotten a piece of metal pushed through his skin. The edges are still slightly red, so it must’ve been recent; today? Yesterday? An early birthday present to himself, perhaps?

Tadashi hadn't even known it was something Hiro was interested in.

It fits his face perfectly, just like it doesn’t fit _Hiro._ Not the Hiro he knows; not his little brother, the one with the big, brown eyes who’d toddled over to him, always asking for ‘up’. Not the reckless little juvenile who landed them in a few hot messes, but had his heart in the right place.

The Hiro standing in front of him is a complete stranger, inside and out, and Tadashi created him.

“...Just...remember that Aunt Cass probably has something planned for you tomorrow, that’s all. She...you know, how she is.” His attempt at an explanation is weak, and Tadashi knows it. But three sentences worth of words, and he’s dried up. Of all the things he could say...that’s it. That’s all he has.

Tadashi turns back to his desk. Leaning over it, he pretends to be busy. Pretends that every inch of him isn’t painfully aware of Hiro’s eyes on his back.

_I’m sorry._

“...Whatever, man,” Hiro murmurs quietly under his breath before quickly walking out of the room.

The door slams closed behind him and Tadashi lets his pencil drop from his hands for the thousandth time that evening, covering his eyes and massaging his temples with a soft groan. There’s absolutely no nice way to put things the way they are now; not in comparison to how they were.

Everything’s fucked.

There’s no reason for him to go back downstairs, aside from saying goodnight to Aunt Cass; and just for tonight, Tadashi decides against doing so. She’d probably be able to tell, most likely ask...and his emotions feel almost brittle, a little too close to crumbling at the slightest amount of pressure. He’s grateful Hiro didn’t push him for once, but then…

Hiro didn’t push him. And he always pushed him. That’s what little brother’s did. Always pushing each other; jovial rivals and best friends, all at the same time. Heck; at one point, he remembers catching the little thief out at rifling through his trash can one day- so he could snatch out all of Tadashi’s concept designs and sneak them into his journal. He’s pretty sure the odd student ID card he’d lost over the years had also found their place in whatever hidey hole his brother had been using to stash those sorts of things…

In turn, Tadashi had sewn trackers into every piece of Hiro’s clothing; just to make sure that no matter what, he’d always be there when Hiro needed him.

What happened to that?

“I did.” He murmurs to himself. Pushing away from his desk, Tadashi stands, not bothering to stretch out the stiffness in his lower back before falling down into his bedsheets, exhausted. Tonight was already a big enough waste of time; the very least he could do was try and use the rest of it to get some sleep.

But a thought hangs over his head for hours, leaving him to stare at the ceiling for longer than he would’ve liked.

_I could’ve wished him happy birthday, at least._

\------

Another club. This is the third now; and probably the only one out of those three that Hiro hasn’t been banned from for one thing or another. It’s not familiar to Tadashi, but they’re all the same. Loud bass he can hear from a block away, a line up at the door. It’s not a place he’d want to spend his eighteenth, but this is Hiro’s scene now, apparently.

He tries to pretend that doesn’t matter to him; the important thing is the fact that as of two hours ago, Hiro turned eighteen. And as much as he doesn’t want to be here, he knows Aunt Cass too well to not expect a surprise party sometime tomorrow.

It’d be nice if his brother was up to joining them for it. And, perhaps…

...No. No. That was the extent of it. Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, Tadashi stares moodily at the curb; out of all the places he’s followed his brother so far, this one seemed slowest to give access. Could be worse, though. Could still be staring at the ceiling, incapable of sleep. Thank god he’d remembered that girl- Armeena? Alina?- had given him her phone number weeks ago; she’d been happy to supply him with Hiro’s location last time, and tonight wasn’t much different.

Surely, if she was such a good friend, she’d know Hiro was hurting. Her inability to even hesitate in responding to him doesn’t foster much confidence.

The hold up, if Tadashi’s guessing right, seems to be that the place is full; no one enters until someone leaves, and it- is it even _legal,_ to still be letting people in at this hour? The bouncers don’t even bother carding him, which suits Tadashi fine; he can’t even remember if he picked up his wallet or not.

As he steps through the door, he’s abruptly knocked back by a man on his way out; a muttered curse his only ‘apology’. Not even unbelievable; just _typical,_ by this point. Scoffing to himself, Tadashi continues on his way in, mood souring the further on he goes. The layout isn’t much different to the ones he’s followed Hiro to before, thankfully. So if he just goes to the bar, asks where the smoking area is....perhaps he’ll find Hiro there.

Wrapped around another man.

His stomach drops even before he notices the collection of people on the dancefloor. Not that there’s anything unusual about that; that’s what the dancefloor is for. Lots of bodies, all crammed in together.

No, the oddity is that they’re all crowded around a singular point. All standing still. Tadashi’s stomach drops further. The closer he gets to it, the more snippets of conversation he overhears.

“Did you see where he went?”

“Just came up to him and-”

“That poor kid; is he going to be okay?”

He doesn’t want to believe anything bad happened. Fights happen; Hiro’s smart enough to stay out of them. But in spite of all that, Tadashi’s steps quicken, shoving his way through the outside of the crowd until he can see _in,_ just so he can be sure, just so he makes sure it isn’t-

Hiro. Laying on the ground, face caked with blood.

Tadashi’s blood freezes. A long, long time ago, he’d woken up some nights in a panic, pyjamas sticking to his skin with sweat and shaking refusing to die down until he’d scrambled over to Hiro’s cot, and checked he was still there. Made sure he was safe. There’d been more nightmares about the bot fights; pissing off the wrong people. Finding him just a little too late, bleeding out against the ground.

Right here, right now. All of his childhood nightmares cultivated into hideous reality.

“Move. _Move! Get out of the way!”_ He shoves his way through without a second thought, scooping his brother up before his knees even hit the floor. Hiro’s eyes are glassy, hand fumbling to wipe the blood away, smearing it _everywhere._ He grips his wrist and pulls it down, trying to see. What happened, _how, how did it happen, who let this happen, why wasn’t he here?_

“Tadashi?!” Amina calls to him from a place in the crowd, and his lip curls. No. No, she’s not _allowed to take part in this._ If he sees her face, he’ll explode. He’ll explode. The look he shoots her is made of poison, and despite the fact that they’ve met all of once, that’s enough to keep her away. At least long enough for him to concentrate on someone far more important.

“I got you buddy. You’re okay. You’re okay…” Getting Hiro into his arms is more awkward than it may have been when he was fourteen- but it’s everything to do with his height, and nothing to do with his body weight. If anything, he feels particularly _small_ right now, a tiny thing in his arms as the crowd parts and lets them through, one or two people calling after them they’ve called an ambulance, or chastising Tadashi for moving his brother.

They can all **fuck off.**

“Hiro? Speak to me. Don’t fall asleep right now; talk to me. Tell me what happened.” _Come on Hiro, please. Please, be okay. Be okay…_

“I knew...I knew y’d come…” Hiro finally croaks out, his head lolling onto Tadashi’s shoulder as lights flash overhead, the neon of the clubs interior replaced by the steady glow of streetlamps. It was colder outside than in the club and Hiro shivers, his eyes not quite focusing.

“Of course I came.” He breathes back. “I always come, yeah? Maybe a little too late this time, but I always do.”

He always does. He almost didn’t. He almost didn’t, and Hiro would’ve been left to fend for himself in this state. Tadashi tightens his hold, keeping him as securely against his chest as possible as he hurries towards the exit- gotta get outside. Gotta sit down. Gotta figure out what happened; figure out how he’s hurt.

He has to _help._

“‘M eighteen now, ‘Dashi,” he breathes out against Tadashi’s neck as if his brother hadn’t said anything, his gasps shuddering and uneven. “‘M _old._ Still y’baby though, right?” 

He’s crying. “‘M still your baby…”

The line outside is full of shocked, loud voices, and he steps past them, away from them, down a few buildings until he finds a shop front with some steps, somewhere he can sit and cradle Hiro in his lap as he shrugs his blazer off and using one of the sleeves to carefully, heart poundingly wipe at his brothers face. He’s careful, so careful; but Hiro hisses and flinches away when he tries to smooth over his eye. From the looks of it, that must be where most of the blood’s coming from.

He was glassed. It has to be from glass. No one could cause a cut like that just from throwing a punch, but a _bottle…_

If it wasn’t for the adrenalin running through his body, Tadashi’s sure he’d be throwing up. It’s a good thing Hiro needs his attention right now, because if he didn’t, then there’s no way he’d be capable of stopping himself from tracking whoever did this down.

“Shh, shh… You’re not that old. Still my baby.” He soothes, wiping blood off Hiro’s cheek. “Always my baby; my little brother…”

_Don’t you fucking call me your baby._

“No…” Hiro whines out the word, elongating it. All his attention is on Hiro, drunkenly attempting to escape his grasp. It’s always been on Hiro; always will be.

“No- not brother, _no.”_ Hiro’s voice is rising, hysterical, fighting against Tadashi’s hands as he attempts to roll out of his lap. “I don’t- _don’t-!”_ his voice is too high, breaking right down the middle.

“Hiro- Hi- baby, _stop_ …stop moving. You’re going to hurt yourself.” _God Hiro, please-_

“You...you _hurt me,”_ Hiro squeaks out, voice too wrecked to shout properly as his hands ball into weak fists, raining down on his Tadashi’s chest with no strength behind them to cause damage. And Tadashi lets every one of Hiro’s punches hit him, and every single one, despite the lack of force behind them, feels like a blow he can’t recover from. They bruise far, far deeper than skin, as he gently rocks his brother back and forth, hushing him as softly and as caringly as possible. Hiro continues, like he can’t hear a single sound Tadashi’s making. “My _heart...hurts._ It’s _you.”_

Hiro’s eyes are struggling to stay open; he’s looking up at Tadashi’s face, and if his expression is anything to go by, he doesn’t like what he sees. 

“You...You…” Hiro struggles to find breath, confusion in his tone evident even as he gets the words out, clear yet choked with tears; 

_“You called me a whore, Tadashi.”_ He breaks in Tadashi’s arms, one hand going down over his shoulder and clinging at the cotton of his t-shirt whilst the other continues to rain weak punches over his heart. Hiro wails into Tadashi’s shoulder, the rough edge to the sound almost making it a ragged scream, and it’s _killing him._

“Why, ‘Dashi? Why _did’jou-”_

“You’re not a whore, Hiro.” Just getting the words out hurts, throat too tight not to sound utterly strangled. He never moves to stop Hiro’s hits; Tadashi doesn’t think he could defend himself if he tried. Hiro’s wails rip far deeper than skin, and all he wants to do is make it better. All he wants to do is make it stop, all this _pain._

_How could he have done this to him?_

“You’re not a whore, baby. I’m just an idiot. A big, stupid moron who worries about you too much.” He runs his fingers through Hiro’s hair, rocking the tiny, heartbroken little boy in his arms back and forth, much like he used to when he was younger. “I got scared, baby. I was so scared that someone had forced you to do that to them, and I said the wrong thing. You’re _not_ a whore. You’re so beautiful, and people try to take advantage of that. You’re too beautiful…” 

Tadashi can feel Hiro calming slightly, his inconsolable cries tapering off into quiet sniffles as his younger brother curls smaller in his arms, rubbing his face against the side of his neck. He’s whimpering, small words made ineligible by the thickness of his tears. Tadashi tries to shush him, soothe his brother’s pain, _god he tries,_ and suddenly he can make the words out; 

_“...Just you, ‘Dashi. Only you. You forever-”_

_There’s no-one else. There’s never been anyone else. **I’m in love with you,** you fucking idiot._

“I don’t deserve you.” Tadashi whispers, swallowing repeatedly. His eyes sting, and he blinks rapidly to attempt to rid himself of the sensation. “I really don’t deserve you.”

Hiro’s fingers curl into his shirt; his neck is wet, and the distinctly morbid part is he can’t tell if it’s tears or blood that’s smeared against his skin right now; can’t tell if it’s the physical or emotional pain leaving a visible stain. He can feel the way Hiro’s breath hitches, and his lips parting when he speaks.

_“...Itai. Nii-san. Itai."_

Hiro hasn’t spoken Japanese in years. He still remembers the day he came home, eyes red rimmed with tears, and told him there would be “no Japan. English now.” School had never been easy on him, and at ten years old, his bullies had fixated on the fact that Hiro’s English wasn’t great. It had left it’s mark, banning his first language from his vocabulary from that day onwards.

It had been something Tadashi had missed, hearing their father’s language coming from excitable lips. Always a little more musical, a little more poetic than English. Hearing it now, though, hearing it right now.

It hurts. It _hurts._

 _“Wakatteiru."_ The language falls from his lips brokenly, arm curling about Hiro even as the ambulance pulls out in front of the club, as people point them out to the officers. _“Nakanai, ii yo, ii yo..."_

Hiro stares at Tadashi’s lips through his tears, squinting as if Tadashi’s just spouted Latin at him, rather than the first language he ever spoke. But then, the last time he spoke it, he was eight; and if Hiro was anything, it was stubborn. If he didn’t want to speak it, or remember it, he wasn’t going to.

“I-I don’t-” He stammers, his confusion evident in the tone of his voice and the expression on his face. His head’s tilts dangerously to the side, his eyes narrowed like he’s trying to remember, _remember_ the stories Tadashi used to read to him when he was small, his high voice piping and happy as he read aloud, their home language falling from his lips as naturally as rain-water. Hiro struggles to understand, words slurring all the more and body laxing. It’s too much effort for his little brother, right now...

“Wha..?” Hiro breathes out against his skin as his eyes slip shut. He butts his head lightly against Tadashi’s collarbone as the light around them suddenly gets brighter; There are flashes of blue and red and a lady’s voice, getting closer. Hiro whines softly as he attempts to bury deeper into Tadashi’s neck, almost as if he could hide there forever.

“Not’chur _brother,”_ he whispers, his voice cracked and broken. Tadashi talks over him, back to English as he steps out of the dark of the shop front and grabs the medic’s attention. Hiro’s still mumbling to him, his words soft. “Mmm, ‘Dashi...I don’t wanna-”

“Baby, shh… I know.” The paramedics are approaching swiftly, though it takes a moment before Tadashi realises they’re wearing uniforms, collecting Hiro closer in a protective hold as he stands, swallowing roughly. His throat is so dry, but he can’t remember when it started to feel like that, tongue rough as sandpaper. “Let me take care of you. Just for tonight.”

“Hey there, boys. I’m Sally,” the Paramedic introduces, approaching Tadashi slowly. She’s got a large bag in her hand, and a small smile on her face that’s supposed to be encouraging. It’s not. He’s sure that right now, he looks about ready to bolt away, and Tadashi can’t find it in himself to cast blame for that, too. “Can I ask your names?”

“Tadashi.” He manages to get his own name out, eyes flicking from Sally back to his brother, shifting him anxiously in his arms. _She’s safe. She’s fine. she just wants to help._ “And Hiro. Look, he- I didn’t see it, but he’s got a cut on his head and his eyes aren’t focusing-”

“Okay, Tadashi?” She interrupts him smoothly; not so much rude as she is calm, a professional balm against the overly frantic pace of his thoughts. “You’ve done great keeping an eye on him, but I’m gonna have to ask you to bring him into the back of the ambulance, is that okay?” 

Tadashi watches her cautiously before taking a few steps forwards, his arms not loosening their grip on his brother for a second. “Awesome. Just keep coming, we’ll lie Hiro down and then I can take a look at him, that sound good to you?”

He shouldn’t hesitate, he knows. But her words have him slowing, grip tightening until Hiro whines. If he puts him down, they might just….take him, without letting Tadashi come along. He can’t- they can’t do that. He doesn’t want to put him down.

“Can I stay with him?” His voice sounds like gravel, desperate and shaken. “Just- I need to. Please.”

The woman’s eyes soften, and she smiles at him. “Of course you can stay.” Leading the way into the back of the ambulance, she pats the gurney inside and gestures for Tadashi to sit down. “In fact, you _might_ want to hold him for a while. He’s not going to like this.” She bustles away, opening cabinets and passing information back and forth with a man sat in the driver’s seat. She pulls the back doors shut, and there’s silence for a moment.

Hiro stirs slightly as the doors close and the vehicle begins to move. Whining, he turns his face into Tadashi’s neck once more; hiding from all the noise, all the lights. Once again Tadashi lets him, uncaring that, at this point, it’s most definitely blood that’s been rubbed off all over him. If it helps, it helps.

“Hiro? You’re going to have to sit really still for me, okay?” Sally’s got a needle in her hand. “It’s going to be a sharp prick on the inside of your elbow, so we can get some fluids in you, okay? Just hold really still. You can talk to your...boyfriend? If it helps?” 

Boyfriend. There’s that word again, though it feels like it’s been years since he’s heard it. From Hiro; not from a paramedic waving a needle at him, expecting him to encourage his little brother to stay calm and comply. But...

She looks up at Tadashi with an eyebrow raised, her hand coming out to grip Hiro’s wrist and steady him. She waggles the needle slightly and mouths _tell me when._

But he doesn’t correct her. Tadashi just nods, carefully cupping the side of Hiro’s face that isn’t injured, waiting until those foggy eyes are at least slightly focused on him. “Just look at me, baby. Just at me. Stay nice and still; can you do that?”

Hiro blinks slowly, his face forced upwards by gentle hands, dilated pupils containing more fear than Tadashi ever wants to see again staring into his own. He looks so...confused by it all, like he doesn’t even know how he wound up laying down, like he’s surprised Tadashi’s even _here._

“Mmm,” he manages to grunt out, and his eyes fall shut again.Tadashi waits a moment before giving Sally another, tight nod, and she mutters, “Sorry sweetheart,” under her breath as she applies pressure, needle sinking into Hiro’s arm.

He jumps, the movement harsh as he yelps. Sally’s hold tightens as his arm jerks, not allowing him to pull away; though it’s clear how much Hiro wants to. His expression twists into fearful hysteria, a noise pulling it’s way out of his throat, high and panicked.

 _“Kowaidesu!_ ‘Dashi, I-” English and Japanese blends in an ungraceful mesh of babbled speech, his eyes sharpening for a brief moment as Sally tapes down the cannula, the plastic wings fixed tightly to the skin if Hiro’s arm. “Well done, Hiro; you did brilliantly, sweetie.” 

“‘Dashi, g’way-” Hiro’s eyes rest on his face, eyes holding only the smallest amount of brown around a pool of black, and he’s reminded of an animal. An injured, frantic animal- except it’s his brother. His _baby,_ and Tadashi feels utterly helpless to make this better, murmuring words that just have such little meaning, right now.

 _“Daijobou._ Hiro, you’re okay. You’re okay.” Hiro’s actions are just- off. If he’d simply been glassed, then this wouldn’t be the way he’d be acting. Dazed, yes; trembling from adrenalin. But he wouldn’t be this incoherent, wouldn’t be this out of control. And he _knows_ Hiro hasn’t been out long enough to drink himself this far gone, doesn’t think he could have drunk himself into this state, no matter how hard he was trying. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m sorry. You’re okay.”

Swallowing repeatedly is hard, back it feels like the only thing he can do to stop the stinging at the corner of his eyes. The paramedic is busy hooking up a bag of water to the railing on the ceiling above them, and he speaks slowly and carefully to Hiro, trying to tell him what’s happening. He’s an intelligent kid, he’d want to know. “Sally wants you to have some fluids, remember? She’s setting up a drip, I know it’s not comfortable. But it’s...going to help.”

He looks to her to confirm this, though he’s sure somewhere in the back of his rattled mind, he should have enough medical knowledge of his own to figure it out. He built Baymax; he’s read thousands of medical books and procedures.... but right now nothing seems to stick in his mind. It’s all just... rattling images and concepts that flick in and out before he can grasp them.

“That’s a smart boyfriend you’ve got there, hon,” Sally says jovially as crouches down in front of the pair of them, pulling a small pen-torch from her pocket. “Hiro, lemme see those baby-blues of yours…” Carefully, she turns the boy’s head from the safety of Tadashi’s neck, pulls down his lower eyelids gently with her thumb and shines a light across his pupils. She chews her lips as she does so. “Can you tell me how old you are, Hiro?”

“Mmm…”

“That’s not a number, sweetheart.” Maybe it’s hysteria, but the utterly patient tone she uses pulls a ghost of a smile from Tadashi, watching on from his place by Hiro’s side. Turning his wrist over and placing her fingers against his pulse, Sally pauses for a moment before sighing. “Okay, darling…”

She stands, grabbing another small box from nearby and cracking it open; gauze, sterile water and bandages line the inside. “Lets take a look at your head, hmm?” Carefully brushing his hair aside, she cracks open one of the small bottles of water before squirting it directly onto Hiro’s skin.

“Keep his head tilted back if you can, Tadashi,” she instructs, dabbing at the clean cut. “Just so you know...I see this often. I don’t want to scare you, but I think your boyfriend’s been roofied. Rohypnol, have you heard of it? Some people call it date-”

“I know what it is.” He cuts in before she can say it, voice cracking. “I know. Thank you.”

Just focus on Hiro. Running gentle fingers across his jaw, Tadashi smiles down at him, trying not to let that turn into a grimace, hastily wiping at a stray tear before it can fall down his cheek. Not yet. Not right now. “You keep getting into trouble when I’m not there, knucklehead. What am I going to do with you?” 

Hiro lets Tadashi turn his head, tilting it back until he staring sightlessly at the ceiling, the bag of water rocking slightly with the movement of the ambulance. Tadashi continues the gentle back and forth of his thumb across Hiro’s jaw, whispering soft words into his hair every now and then when the spark of confusion in Hiro’s eyes looks like it might start burning out of control. 

“Jus-” Hiro eventually breathes out, the word difficult to hear; more a sound than a structured attempt to part a message. He doesn’t stop though; always so _determined,_ regardless of the consequences. “Jus’ _love me,”_ Hiro breathes into his neck, his body sagging against Tadashi’s as if those three small words have taken all the leftover energy he has. 

“I do. _God Hiro,_ I do.” He wants to bury his face into Hiro’s hair, but he can’t. Not with that injury, not when he’d be impeding on Hiro being _okay._ So many years of studying medical nonsense has utterly flown out the window for this moment; he’s as helpless as Hiro. Helpless to take care of him, helpless to protect him, helpless on how he can make this all better.

But if there’s one thing he can do, it’s love Hiro with his whole heart. With his entire _being._ The back of the ambulance feels so small and stifling in comparison to every feeling he has for this small, drugged out man. His brother. More than that.

So, so much more than that.

_“Anata wa boku no subete da."_

Hiro whines as he tries to turn to his head towards him, as naturally and gentle as a flower turns to face the sun. 

“Stay with me for a sec, Hiro,” the paramedic says quietly, her voice distracted as she gently takes his chin in hand, pulling his face around in order to dab at his eye. The wound is still bleeding freely, though more sluggish than before. “Looks like a doozy, young man. Think the doc’s will be giving you stitches when we get there, hmm?”

She may as well not have said anything, the amount of attention Hiro gave her; He’s whining, quietly in the back of this throat. It’s a constant stream of anxious noise as he attempts to turn his head, his breathing becoming irregular once more, panic colouring his words.

“Should I be worrying about concussion?” Tadashi asks; in part to distract himself. How- he can’t think. Hiro’s drugged, could be drugged, probably needs to sleep that off. But should be be allowed to sleep? Should he be keeping his attention and focus, as long as he can?

He doesn’t know what to do.

The paramedic hums thoughtfully, pushing Hiro bangs, tacky with blood up off his face so she can place a large square of gauze over his eye and temple before taping it to his skin. “Since neither of us saw him fall, I can’t say for certain. However, drowsiness, confusion, appearing more drunk that he usually would? These are all normal side effects of Rohypnol.” She reaches out and pats Hiro’s knee. “There you are young man. That’ll keep it nice and tidy until the doctors can see you; shouldn’t be long.”

A low noise escapes his throat; wounded.

Lost. 

“Tadashi?” Hiro’s voice is far too weak, breathless and slow. “Tadashi, gomen. Gomen nasai.” He’s crying. “Gomen, gomen, gomen…”

Before he can answer Sally, Tadashi’s attention is fixed on Hiro, shaking fingers finding Hiro’s free hand, hanging down off the edge of the stretcher. He twines their fingers together, holding them up so Hiro can see, can _feel_ that he’s still there, he’ll always be there. “Daijobou, daijobou…”

There’s a brief pause before she looks up at Tadashi and gives him a soft smile. “You’ve been great, Tadashi. He’s lucky to have you. Can I ask, what’s he saying? Is he in pain? You’d think I’d have picked up some Japanese from living in this city as long as I have, but I’m still clueless.”

His head drops down to his chest, words caught in his throat. _Breathe, just. Just breathe._

“He’s saying that he's sorry.” And he shouldn’t be the one saying it. Ever. Tadashi’s shoulders shake, the effort to keep calm almost beyond him at the moment; when he looks up, the tears have made distinct tracks down his face. Quiet. Kept out of his voice as much as possible, just so Hiro isn’t alarmed. Just so he stays calm.

“Daijobou, Hiro…”

The paramedic’s face is soft. Kind. She reaches out and places a hand on Tadashi’s shoulder, her thumb rubbing a brief, comforting circle into the tense muscle. Once again, he feels… a disconnected sense of gratefulness to this woman. She belongs here, taking care of people. 

“He’s lucky to have you,” she repeats. “But… you’re lucky to have him too, I think.”

She runs a hand through Hiro’s hair, causing the boy to whine at her touch, curling tighter into the Tadashi’s body. He gives her a wane, apologetic smile, but all she does is chuckle. “Okay, okay. I’ll let you have your boyfriend back now, Hiro. Thanks for being such a good patient, sweetie.” She staggers up the ambulance, swaying with the movement of the vehicle like its second nature, climbing through to the cab.

“We’ll probably be about ten, fifteen minutes, Tadashi. I’ll let you guys have your privacy till then. Call if you need me.” 

“Thank you.” He calls after her. 

This is why Baymax could never fully replace a human touch. As a personal healthcare companion, he’d adapt to singular patients; but dealing with different, new faces emergency after emergency-- there was no coding that could make him ready to imbue that sort of compassion and professionalism. Things like that, robotics couldn’t touch.

...What a stupid thing to be thinking of, right now. With a soft, tearful huff of laughter, Tadashi shifts forwards, gently tilting Hiro’s head back to help him figure out where he is. Right here, as always. _I’m right here baby, I’m right here._

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” Leaning down, he presses his lips to Hiro’s cheek, careful of his injuries. “I love you. So much.”

His brother’s lips part at the feeling of Tadashi’s own against his face, a shaking breath falling from them as crisp as an autumn leaf. Even as out of it as he is, he turns face towards him, fingers twitching valiantly in his grip despite how quickly the drug in his system is taking hold. 

“Ai…” the syllable is almost lost to the rumble of the vehicle around them as Hiro so clearly fights to hold onto the waking world. Sheer determination, always so _fucking_ determined, is what gets the word out before his consciousness well and truly checks out; 

_“Aishiteru yo."_

_“Aishiteimasu."_ The words fall from his lips, quiet and secret, only for Hiro to hear. 

In their first language; the one that Hiro hasn’t spoken for years, the one that’s been banned from their house for so long; the one that Hiro first used to recognise him as ‘nii-san’, the one he first used to call him a dirty word. The memories and the meaning behind hearing Hiro _speak to him like this_ does nothing to quell the violent trembling of his fingers, or the tears that continuously need to be wiped away, but he speaks to Hiro throughout it all.

_I love you. I need you. I never meant to do this to you. I never want to see you hurt. I never want to see you cry._

_I wish you were mine. I wish that wasn’t selfish. I wish that wasn’t wrong._

_I wish I could be with you._

By the time they reach the hospital he’s exhausted, and he allows himself to be gently pushed to the side, no help in getting Hiro’s stretcher out of the back, wheels unfolding and jarring against the ground with a sharp clack before he’s wheeled through double doors. The smell of antiseptic and a certain type of quiet that can only be found in one place hits him as he follows, a silent ghost in a sea of doctors and nurses who likely see the world around them very differently than him, tonight.

There’s no private room, just a curtained off area. Sally is his saving grace; rather than transfer Hiro off the gurney herself, she lets Tadashi take that control; watches him as carefully as Tadashi moves when he picks his brother up, gently placing him back down on the bed, covering his small, lightly shivering form with the white knit blanket that seems a standard on beds like these.

She leaves, and distantly, Tadashi realises he should….he should call Aunt Cass. Tell her what’s happened. Licking his lips, he makes no move for his phone, watching Hiro instead.

The nurse that comes in with the doctor is a large woman; jovial, smiling, her dimples sticking out on her cheeks and immediately setting Tadashi at ease. The doctor? Less so. He’s tall, thin. Strict. It never pays to judge a book by it’s cover, but Tadashi pulls his chair closer to the bed anyway.

“Hiro Hamada?” the doctor asks as he dips his hand into his back pocket, a blue pair of gloves in his hands. “You’re his...boyfriend, I think it said on the handover? Is Mr. Hamada allergic to latex? Any known medications?” he sounds slightly bored; no doubt that Hiro isn’t the first young person he’ll see in this state tonight.

“No...no I, um,” Tadashi clears his throat, looking down at Hiro. He really will have to call Aunt Cass, and they can’t-- he can’t have everyone calling him that when she gets here. “I’m his brother. He’s not allergic, no...and no medications. Sal- the paramedic mentioned the possibility of Rohypnol, though..”

“A simple mistake on the EMT’s part, I’m sure.” Pulling his gloves on, the doctor advances towards Hiro, taking a pen-torch out of his pocket and completing the same tests as Sally had, muttering quietly to the nurse behind him as she scribbled down various pieces of information on whatever form she had on her clipboard. Hiro remained fairly unresponsive throughout, though his brow wrinkles and he makes a small sound of discomfort when the doctor presses down behind his collarbone.

“Responsive to pain,” he says more so to himself than anyone else. “I’m inclined to believe the paramedics assessment, Mr. Hamada; your brother is showing classic signs of Rohypnol overdose. We’ll keep him in overnight, let him sleep it off, and he should be fine to go home in the morning. I’ll need a urine sample at some point, if you can let the nurses know if one should appear.” He pulls the gloves off and pitches them into a nearby trashcan, pushing his glasses further up his nose before scanning the nurses notes briefly and signing them with a flourish before wishing the Hamada’s all the best and flouncing out through the door.

“Thank you. I’ll...I’ll let them know.”

Getting confirmation a second time doesn’t bring any relief. Tadashi watches on and feels like a part of him may have curled up and died somewhere, the weight left behind causing him to breathe slowly, every action feeling like a momentous effort.

It feels like the worst thing that could possibly have happened almost did. What if things had gone differently, tonight? What if he’d just let himself simmer at home, hadn’t worried about going out to find his wayward brother and make sure he was up to whatever party plans Aunt Cass had planned for the next day? What if someone else had taken Hiro. What if-

His mind is sinking into possibility after possibility that makes the situation all the more worse than it is. It takes conscious effort to be part of the now, rather than imagine if he’d woken up to his brother being found dead...or worse, in some back alley, somewhere.

“I’ll take care of your brother’s stitches, okay Mister Hamada?” the nurse asks, smiling warmly.

Giving the nurse a strained smile in return, he sits back and attempts to be as unobtrusive as possible.

He doesn’t even deserve to be here.

“Don’t look so scared, honey. Your brother’s going to be absolutely fine,” she promises, pulling over a silver trolley laden with medical supplies. “It’s very easy; I’ll be in and out in five minutes. Then maybe you should get some rest, hmm? You look wiped, young man.”

Humming to herself, the nurse carefully pins back Hiro’s bangs and removes the sticky tape and gauze from Hiro’s face. “Just a little lidocaine, Hiro…” She primes the small needle before inching over and injecting it around the area of Hiro’s cut.

Despite how quiet he’d been up until this point, Hiro stops being quiet pretty quick; he _whines,_ a high-pitched sound of pain almost like a small dog, his limbs twitching ferociously as the nurse back-peddles quickly, keeping the needle back and out of the way.

“Da... _Da-”_ Hiro’s voice is in tatters, quivering and almost unheard, his fingers twitching and his eyes attempting to open as he struggles, his body language evident that he’s getting up, and he’s getting up _now._

“Hiro, hon, you need to sit still,” the nurse soothes, attempted to put a hand on his arm before his flinches away with another whimper. “There’s not enough. I need to inject a little more or it’s going to really hurt him when I stitch him up,” she tells him, her eyes sympathetic.

“Hiro. Hey, hey…” Tadashi cards his fingers through Hiro’s hair, leaning to the side so he’s not in the way when he ducks down, close enough to murmur, voice stronger than he feels right now. “I’m here, babe. I’m here. You’re going to be okay; just stay still for me. Stay really still.”

He repeats the words over and over until the stop making sense to him; until the slight tension and shivering in Hiro’s body eases enough that he feels like he can make eyes contact with the nurse, nod his head slightly.

“Very still, Hiro. You’re so brave. _So brave.”_

Hiro’s eyes open; confused, but clear. They roam the room slowly, alighting on the surroundings before snapping straight to Tadashi’s face the second he starts talking. There’s pain there, in his eyes, a clear mirror of his own, even if he’s not aware of it. 

Hiro’s making a low whimpering noise, ragged around the edges like ripped cloth as he his hand comes up to grip weakly at Tadashi’s bare arm, fingernails biting weakly in an attempt to find purchase. He licks his lips nervously as he blinks slowly.

 _Are you okay?_ he mouths, voice gone at this point. The nurse starts stitching up his face, nodding encouragingly to Tadashi as she works quickly, the stitches small and even to minimise scarring, although there’s no way that Hiro won’t have a thin white scar dissecting his eyebrow and temple for the rest of his life.

Tadashi smiles and can’t even feel it.

“I’m okay. You just worry about yourself, knucklehead.” He lightly strokes Hiro’s cheek with his thumb, trying to take some of that pain away. All of it, if he can, because seeing it there is killing him; something inside numb and screaming all at once, mind weighed down with all those possibilities, all the responsibility he holds for letting this happen.

Hiro blinks up at him, his eyes out of sync due to the fact that the nurse is finishing up the stitches and is carefully putting a sticky bandage over the top.

 _How could he have let this happen?_

“I’m right here...I’m going to duck out for a few minutes soon, okay? Just to call Aunt Cass, and then we’re going to stay here tonight. Both of us. I’ll be right here.”

“There you go, handsome,” the nurse says lightly, giving Hiro a smile that he doesn’t see because he’s too busy staring at Tadashi. He feels his heart clench painfully as his little brother leans into his touch, the confused whining stopping for moment as Hiro’s eyes slide shut. His hand moves clumsily up Tadashi’s arm, closing around one of his fingers in an childlike grip; Hiro’s hands were always smaller and finer than Tadashi’s own, and his whole fist easily wraps around his finger.

“S-stay. Stay, Tadashi…” he whispers as his head flops back onto the pillow, turning lazily to keep his brother in his line of sight.

“Okay. Okay, Hiro, I’m right here…” The nurse leaves, but Tadashi isn’t aware of quite when that happens. He’s got other priorities; his little brother laying in a hospital bed, paler than he’s seen him in a long time, eyes unfocused and dilated.

And all he can do is talk to him. Talk to him and hold his hand, nattering on about the stupidest and the most important things. Like what they’ll do in the morning. Like how nice it’ll be to be home. Like keeping Hiro company in bed for the rest of the day, how he won’t leave his side for a minute. Hot soup, courtesy of Aunt Cass.

He babbles. He straight out uses whatever words come to mind as those hazy eyes watch him with slow, vague recognition and slight twitches of his mouth; because he’s said something funny or horrible, Tadashi doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know how long it takes for Hiro to fall asleep, but it feels like forever. There’s a reluctance to leave his side, but-

Quietly, Tadashi lets himself out into the hall. Pulling out his phone, he hits one of the only two speed dials he’s ever had, waiting for their aunt to pick up, mind blank on what he could possibly say to her at...whatever time of the morning it was. Four, definitely after four. 

_“...H’lo? Tadashi, i’zat you?”_

“Hi Aunt Cass.” There’s no way he can keep the relief out of his voice, or the exhaustion. Running a hand through his hair, Tadashi glances around him, keeping his voice low. “Sorry for… the time I just- Hiro got in a little trouble. He’s okay! But we’re at the hospital and I just-”

His voice wavers.

 _“Trouble? What do you mean, trouble? Sweetie, talk to me, what’s going on? Are you alright?”_ Her voice is growing in volume, panic clear as Tadashi hears a faint ruffling; probably her sitting bolt upright in bed. 

God. God, he’s sorry.

“He um. He went to a club and someone spiked his drink. Got in a fight, I think. I don’t know. I wasn’t-” He wasn’t there. Tadashi’s breathing quickens, and he starts pacing, incapable of slowing down. Being the sympathetic mover of the family is starting to become more his role than Hiro’s, complete with obligatory violent shaking. “I just- no. I’m not okay. I’m really…. not okay right now.”

The more he talks, the less it feels like he has a grasp on anything. The last of his words are a choked sob, barely understandable to his own ears.

“I really need you here right now, _please.”_

 _“Oh, baby…”_ There are tears in Cass’ voice, the pain of hearing her oldest breaking whilst she can’t reach him crippling her. _“I’m coming, ‘Dashi. I’m coming, sweetie. I need you to listen to me, can you do that? Breathe, babe. Just breathe. It’s going to be alright. I’ll be there soon, okay?”_ There’s more rustling, the sound of zippers being pulled and arms being stuffed into sleeves.

_“It’s the General, right? I’ll be there in ten, fifteen minutes. You stay on the phone with me until then, Tadashi. Okay? I’m so proud of you. My brave man. I’m so so proud of you…”_

He’s been doing his best to be strong all night. His best for Hiro and all the people who’ve had to deal with them, help them. Just...having Aunt Cass on the phone- it breaks him down. Whatever numb wall he’d been casting up shatters and breaks, free hand covering his face as Tadashi slumps against the wall and sobs, ragged, broken sounds that he can’t find the strength to hold in.

“I almost didn’t _look for him. I didn’t-_ I almost _left him out there and I can’t do this, I can’t. I can’t.”_

 _“Sssh, baby. I know it’s been hard, I know. You’ve been trying so hard…”_ He hears the opening and slamming of a car door, Cass cupping her hand over the phone and giving the destination to the cab driver before breathing back into his ear, _“You’ve done so well, my love. My precious nephew. I know you’d never leave Hiro alone; he’ll always have you, baby. You were perfect tonight, I know you were. None of this is your fault, and Hiro’ll tell you the same, hmm? Come on, Tadashi, please don’t cry, baby-”_

“What kind of big brother am I?” Christ. He sniffles, choking down a violent whirl of emotions that- no, not today. Later; he’d have to deal with them later, when he had the- “God, I’m sorry.”

_“Tadashi Hamada, you are an **amazing** brother, don’t you dare think otherwise, you hear me? Don’t you ever think for one second that there is anything you would ever put above that boy; Hiro would be **lost** without you, sweetie. Don’t you ever think that you aren’t good enough, understand?”_

“Yes, Aunt Cass. I’m sorry.” Exhaling roughly, he lets his head fall back against the wall behind him, staring at one of the lights fixed to the ceiling in an exhausted daze. “Thank you for coming, I...you’re the best.”

_“...I love you, sweetie. You know that, right?”_

“I know. I love you too.” Licking his lips, Tadashi glances back down the hall, towards Hiro’s room. He should get back soon, but this...he needs this. For himself. She’ll be here in a few minutes, and yet Tadashi just-

He needs her now. He needs his family.

“I’m so scared of losing him, Aunt Cass. He’s always,” A soft chuckle. “He’s always put everything he has into what he does. I just never thought it would take him here.”

He hears Cass’ answering laughter, a little too wet to be humourous. _“You know your brother, Tadashi; he doesn’t do anything by half. If Hiro loves something…”_

He can hear her humming thoughtfully.

_“...He loves it with everything he has.”_

Tadashi can only hope she doesn’t hear the way his breath catches for a moment, stuttering out another choked laugh as realisation hits him.

Hiro’s in love. That’s what this is; all the acting out, everything. It’s not him overreacting, it’s nothing to do with him thinking that what they’ve done is okay. It’s just Hiro being Hiro; thoughtlessly seeing what he wants and trying to take it- and when he can’t…

Self-destructing.

 _I’m in love with you, you fucking idiot._

“I know.” He’s known for a while. As much as it feels like it’s this big, sudden understanding of the larger picture, he’s known for a while. Every time he’d seen a new mark on Hiro’s skin. After the club, when Hiro had screamed the words at him, heart broken and on show. He’d known. The impossible part was accepting that he felt-

_“Tadashi?!”_

Even from down the corridor, Hiro’s confused, heartbroken wail reaches him.

Regardless of how much panic it might cause later, Tadashi doesn’t listen to Aunt Cass’ queries. The phone drops from his hands; irrelevant, useless, as he dashes down the hall, bursting into the room and hastily pushing past the people who have collected there. Vaguely he’s sure he knows...one of them, perhaps.

Who cares when Hiro’s _bleeding again?_

He’s managed to sit up, curl his arms around his knees. He’s rocking back and forth out of fear, line from the IV somewhere on the floor, and there’s a streak of blood on the tip that makes Tadashi’s throat close up.

He hadn’t expected him to wake up so soon. Not until he was back; not until Hiro could open his eyes and see him. It hadn’t even been ten minutes, but he’s messed up _again;_ left his brother to deal with how overwhelming it must be to wake up in a foreign room, not himself and hooked up to a machine.

“Hey, hey-- _Hiro, I’m here.”_ Tadashi doesn’t stop at the edge of the bed; he grasps Hiro’s hands, waiting until the younger man _looks at him_ before encouraging the way Hiro scrambles into his arms, sitting on the edge of the bed with his brother in his lap, slowly rocking him back and forth with mumbled apologies. “I’m right here...I’m here...I’m not leaving you, you’re okay. You’re okay babe…”

Hiro blinks tears out of his eyes before pushing his face into his brother’s neck, his arms looped tightly around his neck, breath catching as he struggles to get it back under control. 

“M’sorry, Dashi,” he slurs into his brother’s throat, nuzzling at his pulse. “Didn’mean t’scare you…” Tadashi feels Hiro’s fingers weakly digging into his shoulder blades, his entire body sagging forward into Tadashi’s chest. His panic seems to leaching out of him, soothed by Tadashi’s presence. The irony of the thought makes him want to scream, or laugh. Or both.

“Tadashi. Don’ leave me…”

He’s too tired not to hide his face in Hiro’s hair with a soft, broken chuckle, holding him tight like at any moment, Hiro might disappear. Like he’d be standing out in that corridor listening to him scream and wail like his heart’s been broken. 

Tadashi opens his mouth to speak and stumbles over a few fragments of words before giving up on some big, broad statement. Hiro...wouldn’t understand. Right now he’s not sure he would understand.

“Never. Never, _never._ It’s you and me, isn’t that right? Hamada Brothers against the world.” He threads their fingers together, slowly holding out Hiro’s wrist for the nurses to see, continuing to murmur away into his ear before it distracts him; before his words can make him all the more upset. “And more than that. So much more than that. I love you, you big dolt. I love you. Don’t cry.”

Hiro hums in agreement, a small smile on his face; its stupid and not all that co-ordinated, but it’s the first time he’s seen Hiro smile in ages, even out of the corner of his eye. He can feel his heart somewhere behind his ribs pounding, a fluttering in his stomach as his little brother lays his head on his shoulder, messy hair brushing the underside of his chin.

There’s something a little...more, to his words; It’s there, right at the edge, like an aftertaste. _More than that, Hiro. So much more. I love you._

“I know, Tadashi,” Hiro sighs out against his collar. There’s a certain sadness colouring his words; detached and despondent. 

“I love you...s’much. But it’s… diff’rent. Like…” He licks his lips, frowning at his brother’s neck; Words aren’t coming easily for him right now; not that Tadashi can blame him. “Feel-” He weakly grips Tadashi’s wrist, pulling the hand that isn’t wrapped up in his own up to his chest, over his heart so Tadashi can feel with his own fingers how his little brother’s heart races. “S’diff’rent, see? I’uno why; just is. S’just how I…..feel…”

He yawns, blinking slowly. 

“Love you, ‘Dashi,” he mutters, rubbing his head into Tadashi’s shoulder and closing his eyes. His fingers squeeze his brother’s briefly. “Love you…”

 _In love with you._

“Love you too…” The room is louder than Hiro is; mostly because of Aunt Cass, standing in the doorway with her hands over her mouth and tears in her eyes. Mary is taking a look at Hiro’s wrist now that he’s settled; though Tadashi very much doubts the drip will be going back into Hiro’s wrist. Not where it was.

“Oh...my boys. My poor boys…”

Half the words don’t filter through his mind properly. In a daze, Tadashi’s caught up in holding Hiro, still slowly rocking back and forth as he hums low under his breath, a tiny lullaby for only Hiro to hear. It’s easier than words; if he tries to speak now, Hiro will probably look up and see the utter desperation being shot Aunt Cass’ way, as tears streak silently down his cheeks.

Aunt Cass rushes over to him eventually; after the shock is overtaken by urgency. An arm wraps itself tightly about Tadashi’s shoulders, and in spite of himself; in spite of the way he’s been struggling to hold on, just _hold it in whilst Hiro needs him,_ every tear from there on is heralded by a wrenching, heartbroken sob, the wounded cries filling the space as Hiro struggles to get a good look at his face, as Tadashi hides it away from him in Aunt Cass’ chest. He holds on tightly to his tiny, broken family like a lifeline, fingers shaking violently at the thought of _ever_ having to let go.

This...this isn’t a medical emergency. Later today, he’ll take Hiro home and settle him in his own bed, and watch him continue to sleep the rest of his eighteenth away in his groggy, sickly state. He’ll talk to Aunt Cass and he’ll make calls that she’ll insist he needs to make, because he won’t feel in any shape to be telling any member of his family no for a long while. They’ll walk out of here, and Hiro will be fine.

Tadashi’s starting to recognise that he might not be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bird: I wanted to be extremely careful with the language in this chapter. Neither of us knows Japanese, and thus I ran to a few friends who have been studying the language and working over in Japan for years, to double check and confirm every line. It was a long process… and totally doesn’t mean lines aren’t messed up. More likely than not, there’s been a loss in translation somewhere, and I’m SO SORRY if there is.
> 
> It was really important to both of us that we drew upon their heritage in this chapter. I have a lot of headcanons as to why Hiro refuses to speak or write in Japanese now that he’s older, and I’m lucky enough that Annie was keen to draw upon that too. We did our best to not be...tawdry with it, and honestly the worst thing would be insulting someone this chapter with how garbled both of them are. Literally if there’s wording we should be fixing up, we will check your recommendation with others, and we’ll fix it. That simple.
> 
> You can find us [here,](http://annie-mantic.tumblr.com/) and [here.](http://lockandkeyblade.tumblr.com/)


	5. DIAL TONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Groaning, Hiro rolls off the couch and heads for the house, scratching at his stitches. He could do with some lunch. Maybe a nap, since there was little he could do from home regarding his schoolwork without his homework.
> 
> Curving around the side of the Lucky Cat, Hiro covers his mouth with a hand to hide a yawn and is about to step onto the main street when- 
> 
> “-stay out of his life, from now on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything Changes.

[ DIAL TONE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yrbcFSikkvs)

* * *

Hiro is released from the hospital before noon on the day of his eighteenth birthday; still wracked with the odd bout of shivers, he goes in and out of restless slumber for the majority of the morning until the doctors give him the go ahead to leave. His thoughts, whilst disjointed due to his occasional fall into unconsciousness, are clear. 

Tadashi has his arms around him, resting his chin on the top of his head in the back of the taxi they had hailed as he had hobbled down the hospital steps; his hands rub soothing circles into the muscle of Hiro’s back, his palms warm and gentle and several shades of perfection. Aunt Cass is sat next to him with his legs across her lap, smoothing the hair from his face and looking at him with an expression he can’t place. 

A small part of him thinks it might be disappointment. He closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to confirm that. 

Hiro’s head throbs painfully. He thinks there was a nurse; a smiling woman kneeling in front of him with her hand on his knee as she had tried to explain to him what had happened; that he’d been in a fight. That there were stitches in his face which would leave a thin scar above his eye, bisecting his eyebrow and crawling up towards his hairline. It was covered by a white square of gauze, so he hadn’t seen it yet. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. 

Hiro coughs weakly in Tadashi’s arms, the ring in his lip clacking against his teeth. Body jewellery, a scar and a brain that refused to work…

Who the hell _was he_ anymore?

“Almost there ba-buddy,” Tadashi murmurs to him quietly, his speech slightly halting; Hiro can hear the word on his tongue and wishes his brother had said it; Aunt Cass somewhere around his knees is good reason not to. 

“Aunt Cass, can you-?” Tadashi didn’t even have to ask; the moment the cab has pulled up to the curb, she’s out and hurrying round to open the door for him, and he gives her a quiet _thanks, Aunt Cass_ before carefully collecting Hiro into his arms. “I got you… put your arms around my neck, okay?”

It’s hard to focus on Tadashi as his head rolls slightly at the sudden change from being mobile to coming to stop. Groaning slightly, Hiro presses a hand to his forehead, eyes closed so he misses Tadashi ducking in close to whisper into his ear. 

“Baby, c’mon…you gotta help me out, here.” 

Hiro blinks slowly, his limbs heavy and reluctant to follow his command but it’s almost like a subconscious reaction; he hears Tadashi’s lips frame that word, _their_ word (don’t fucking _call me)_ and he can’t help but focus. Grumbling slightly, Hiro manages to get one arm around Tadashi’s shoulders. His fingers cling weakly to the cotton of his brother’s t-shirt as his blazer is blood-stained and clutched in a plastic bag in his Aunt Cass’ hands. 

His other arm flops uselessly, fingers twitching uselessly as he attempts to glare down at his own appendage...but looking at the ground even from the small height of his brother’s chest is enough to induce a strong wave of nausea, vertigo making his head spin. 

“Fuckin’ _ell,”_ Hiro moans out, his voice rough from exhaustion and crying. Turning his face into Tadashi’s neck, Hiro holds onto his brother’s shoulder as best he can; he trusts him not to let him fall, at least. 

Tadashi, to his credit, does a damn fine job of getting him into the house; he doesn’t knock Hiro’s delicate head or legs against any doorframes of cafe tables, and he keeps him pretty steady, even when taking the two flights of stairs to their room. 

Hiro can hear Cass murmuring quietly, words not really meant for him; Tadashi’s response is a low rumble, the words vibrating through his chest and into Hiro, bringing with it a flash of warmth that makes him want to stay in his brother’s arms a little while longer. 

Even if he’s only allowed a while.

It doesn’t take long for the song of Aunt Cass to disappear, having obviously gone downstairs in order to let Hiro rest for a while. Tadashi’s still holding him in his arms, standing still and staying silent and it’s…nice. Just nice, to be held like this. 

“Just you and me now, babe,” Tadashi murmurs against the crown of his head, and Hiro feels his heart swoop at the sound of his brother’s voice. “Bear with me for a moment, okay?” Hiro hums quietly in agreement as Tadashi lays him on his mattress and unlaces his shoes, pulling them from his feet. Hiro cracks open an eye and watches as his older brother does the same before coming closer, pulling back the corner of the covers before helping Hiro slide underneath. 

“I’m here. I’m right here…” Tadashi’s voice is as slow as his movements as he carefully shifts himself until he’s leaning back against the headboard, moving Hiro’s head on his chest before pulling the blankets over both of them, wrapping his arms around Hiro to keep him close. “My brave boy, huh? Not the best birthday you’ve had.” 

“...Do I get a redo?” Hiro breathes out, nuzzling at his brother until his face is pressed against Tadashi’s neck, fingers hooking into the neck of his t-shirt and stretching the material slightly. 

“I don’t think that’s how birthday’s work, baby. But we’ll figure something out.” Tadashi’s voice is low and soft, pressed into his hair. 

“‘M damn sore…” And his is; his head, his eyes, his mouth...all of it throbs gently, all out of sync with no respite between each little wave of discomfort. It’s not as bad as it could be; he can feel himself jostled slightly before the room goes dark. Tadashi must’ve reached for the window and pulled the blinds down, and the lack of natural light definitely helps with the headache he can feel growing behind his eyes. 

Sighing, Hiro curls tighter against Tadashi’s side, one of his legs slowly stretching over Tadashi’s thighs and ankle hooking around his knee. His brother is _warm,_ so very warm and it’s perfect being under the blankets with him like this; it’s an unspoken rule that they don’t get to share a bed anymore. 

Hiro misses the heat of his brother’s sleepy skin. 

“Pretty out of it…” Hiro says slowly, his voice quiet in the still of their room. “Not as bad as last night… ‘M sorry if I...said anything bad.” Chewing his lip slightly (though not getting very far with the metal getting in the way), Hiro instead taps his piercing against his front teeth. 

“You didn’t say anything bad, Hiro…just the truth,” Tadashi replies gently, hand rubbing a soothing circle across Hiro’s shoulders, and he can practically feel himself melting under his touch. Tadashi’s not being very forthcoming with his answers, but maybe that’s a good thing; if Hiro can’t remember what he said, maybe they're not meant to be remembered. 

“‘Dashi… what happened?” That’s one question he does want an answer to, considering he’ll be wearing the mistakes of last night across his face for the rest of his life. 

“...I don’t know, baby. I’m sorry.” Slowly, he pulls Hiro a little closer; his breathing is a little too careful. A little too slow, a little too even. “You were on the ground when I got there. Someone slipped something into your drink, but...when, or what happened next-”

Hiro feels Tadashi press his lips against his head, voice slightly more hoarse than before. 

“The important thing is that you’re okay.” His breath is warm against Hiro’s head, his fingers hot against the small of his back where they touch skin from where his shirt’s ridden up. 

Hiro whines, arching his body into Tadashi’s touch, adoring the attention after so long of receiving none. He’s too tired, too fatigued to do anything more than rub his nose up the line of his brother’s throat, fingers petting his body where they rest, unable to explore like he wants to.

It’s probably a good thing; Tadashi’s not sounding so hot, himself. 

“I...I musta been glassed,” Hiro mutters, eyes staring at a blank space on the wall as he bullies his tired brain into finding the memories from the previous night. They had to be in there somewhere, but if they were then they were being damn elusive. “I don’t...I don’t remember anything. I remember _you.”_

It’s not a lie; His thoughts are like snapshots, blurred images in sepia that pop up at the forefront of his mind before getting lost in the swirling fog of his thoughts. He sees Tadashi, looking down at him and looking for all the world like he’s going to start crying; his own hands balled into fists; a smiling lady in a brightly lit area…

_You’re not a whore, Hiro._

“Did….did we talk about…” Hiro pauses, throat closing up around the words. They don’t talk about it. Hell, this is the first time they’ve spoken properly in weeks. Hiro’s scared to bring it up in case it drives his brother away...but if his mind is being honest and that’s what actually happened, then he wants to know. 

He _needs_ to know. 

“The club? The bathroom, did we-” _Did you talk about it? Do you remember? Do you regret?_

Hiro could probably answer all of his own questions, if he’s honest with himself. A shame he’s never been very good at that.

“…Yeah. We talked,” Tadashi answers after a long pause, hands stilling from where they stroke his back and hair. There’s a soft huff, vaguely akin to laughter. “I talked. You hit me a lot, for the most part.” 

“...And..?”

“And I told you that I didn’t mean it.” Hiro feels Tadashi swallows roughly, just to find his voice again. “God, Hiro, I didn’t mean it. But god...you’re scaring me. You’re scaring me so much, and last night-”

Tadashi sounds like he’s fourteen again, vocal chords cracking like he’s fumbling to answer a teacher’s question before they lose patience with him.

“I don’t know how I could possibly have lived with myself if something happened and one of the last things you heard from me was that. I don’t know- what the hell would I do without you? What would I do?”

Hiro runs his thumb back and forth across Tadashi’s throat as his brother talks, his touch feather-like as the vibrations of Tadashi’s voice play against his fingertips. He can’t see his brother’s face from the way he’s safely held against the older man’s chest, but Hiro can feel the tremors of his body; the way his chest contracts with tears and the water in his voice easy to hear.

“It wasn’t my finest moment, Hiro. I can’t take it back- I know even know how to start making it better.” 

Hiro doesn’t like it. He never has, had always hated seeing Tadashi cry, hated _hearing_ it and his immediate response is to _move,_ to make things better and to make the tears stop-

But Tadashi beats him to it; he regains his own composure quicker than Hiro can send the signals to his arms for them to push him upright, at least so he could see his brother’s face. His voice is low when he talks, husky from unshed tears and it _hurts._

“You don’t-” Hiro starts, hand clenching around the neck of Tadashi’s t-shirt, the soft grey cotton creasing in his hold. “You don’t have to- don’t _cry-”_

“Sssh, Hiro-” 

“No, I have to-” Hiro can feel himself getting worked up, tears beading at the edge of his eyelashes. 

They’ve both been so _stupid,_ so careless in the way that they’ve treated each-other that Hiro’s surprised neither of them have completely shattered from the abuse. He’s been so _reckless,_ and now he’ll have a scar on his face to always show for it. Was this what Tadashi meant? What he had been trying to tell him? 

“I’m... _fuck,_ Tadashi, I’ve fucked up.” Pressing his face to his brother’s chest, Hiro just...breathes. Ragged, uneven...but he breathes.

“Hey, hey…” Tadashi laughs softly, though the sound is somewhat strangled as he shifts a little closer and curls over Hiro, arms tightening around his waist. “You haven’t fucked up, buddy. Things just got out of hand. It’s not your fault… you can’t make people’s decisions for them, hm?” Tadashi noses at his hair, exhaling slowly. “You’re home. You’re okay- I’m okay. It’s not fun, but things...things will sort themselves out. And I’ll still be here when they do.”

There’s a moment of silence as Tadashi just breathes and Hiro…Hiro tries not to break. 

“You were so brave last night, Hiro. I’m so proud of you.” 

Hiro takes a shuddering breath before squeezing his eyes shut against the onslaught of tears, fisting his hands into Tadashi’s shirt and crying; short, bitter sobs against his brother’s collarbone because he’s his _brother_ and he _hates it._

“But- B-but I-” he stammers against hiccups, voice thick and misery thicker as he feels Tadashi gently shushing him with low murmurs and soothing noises; _I’ve got you, Hiro. I’ve got you, bro._

And _bro, brother;_ everything’s ruined and broken because of the blood they share and Hiro’s tired and bitter and just wants it _gone._

“I love you, Tadashi,” he whines into his brother’s shirt, trying to curl into himself even as Tadashi presses against him, hand carding softly through his hair like it used to when Hiro was six and started school with kids with three years on him; these familiar movements comfort him just as much as they flay him alive. 

“I’m in _love_ with you, Tadashi…” He doesn’t want to be; god, he’d do anything to rip this pain clear from his chest, fuck the consequences- but he can’t. Pulling out his love for his brother like it was a rotting tooth would leave him hollow. Empty. 

It would leave him nothing.

“I know, Hiro. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

Hiro’s sobs turn to sniffles, then sniffles to hiccups, and then finally hiccups turn to silence. 

Eyes red and inflamed, Hiro lets them stay closed as his brother continues the slow back and forth of his hand across his shoulder blades; Tadashi’s touch is as gentle as it’s always been...just the touch just feels cold. 

_I know, Hiro._

It’s one thing to know something...but it’s another to accept it, and it’s clear from Tadashi’s speech and body language that he doesn’t return those feelings. How could he? Hiro’s his _little brother,_ not his boyfriend or lover or...anything else. 

Hiro needs to accept that. 

More tears dribble from underneath his closed lids, falling onto the already sizable damp patch on Tadashi’s shirt as Hiro says the words to himself in his head; _Tadashi doesn’t love you. Not in that way._

_Deal with it._

But some things are so much easier said than done, and Hiro’s not sure that he can; without Tadashi, there’s very little of himself that’s left. 

He’s held in his brother’s arms with his brother’s warm breath in his hair, and Hiro’s never felt so alone. 

\------

Hiro’s begun to spend more time in his garage than in his actual home; he’d like to say that it’s because it feels weird to be back under his own roof after so long of doing everything he could to stay _out_ of the house, even if it meant sleeping in his office at SFIT… but that’s not the reason. 

It’s because Tadashi’s inside, and being near his brother is...painful, at the best of times and impossible at the worst. 

Not that they fight; if anything they’re perfectly civil to each-other. But that could be attributed to the fact that they _never speak;_ Hiro can’t find the words to bridge the gap that grows daily between himself and his older brother, and Tadashi seems just as lost. He often finds himself wondering why Tadashi was so desperate for him to stay home after the...accident, if he wasn’t going to attempt to fix things between them, but…

Hiro’s long accepted that he doesn’t really understand how Tadashi thinks anymore. 

Pulling lightly at the ring in his mouth, Hiro cocks his head slightly as he pushes his bangs back and looks at the cut on his forehead with a somewhat dejected frown. It’s still red and inflamed; an angry-looking slash across his skin that is thankfully usually hidden by his hair, but if he ever wanted to cut or change his hairstyle, everyone would see it. 

It’s especially obvious due to the fact that it cuts a clear line through his dark eyebrow. 

“Dammit…” Hiro mutters to himself with a sigh, flopping back on the faded couch, feet hanging over the edge as he sulks. It’s _so boring_ being trapped between these four walls; Tadashi had looked like he was going to have a heart attack when Hiro had started walking down the street to head to the nearby store, just for something to do. His brother had raced out looking startled, and had offered to come with him rather than let Hiro go alone. 

That kind of ruined the whole point of going. 

Groaning, Hiro rolls off the couch and heads for the house, scratching at his stitches. He could do with some lunch. Maybe a nap, since there was little he could do from home regarding his schoolwork without his homework.

Curving around the side of the Lucky Cat, Hiro covers his mouth with a hand to hide a yawn and is about to step onto the main street when- 

“-stay out of his life, from now on.” 

Hiro falters in his step for a brief moment at the sound of his brother’s voice, but there’s something not quite...right about it. Tadashi’s pitch was low. Harsh. Completely out of character from his soft and kindly brother that Hiro stops completely before peeking around the edge of the building. 

Amina’s there; from the looks of it, it seems that Tadashi had asked his friend to come to the cafe in order to bring his work. That’s not the thing that’s got him frozen in place, completely and uttering shocked; it’s the fact that Tadashi’s talking to her in that flat tone, and he’s telling her to, what? Stay out of _his_ life? 

Amina must be looking at Tadashi with a _look,_ because his brother’s lip is curling. “...Don’t you think that’s a decision that _Hiro_ should make, not you?” Her voice is mild and pleasant, despite the way she holds herself as tall as she can...which to be honest isn’t that much; she barely comes up to Hiro’s chin, let alone Tadashi’s.

“And he would, but I think there’s something here we both know that he doesn’t.” Tadashi’s eyes are sharp, tone taking on an _edge_ that’s about as close to impolite as he gets. “You’ve had your fun and taken advantage of his time, and he ended up in hospital. Was it worth it? Carting him around like some sort of pretty object? What part of him is actually more important to you; the fact that he looks good, or the fact that he does your work for you?”

“...Who the _hell_ do you think you are?!” Amina says loudly, shock as evident in her voice as it is on Hiro’s own face. _Tadashi, what are you-?_

“He is my _friend,_ Tadashi! I care about him, whether you think I do or not! He ended up in hospital because a guy who’d tried it on with him previously lashed out when Hiro tried to refuse him and that is _not my_ fault! I couldn’t help him because _you_ dragged him away! Did you even think of what could’ve happened? You could’ve hurt him even more by moving him!” 

Hiro flattens his back against the wall, heart hammering. They’re fighting, and he doesn’t understand _why._ Tadashi doesn’t even know Amina, and she’s never met him either. Why’s she being so aggressive? She’s trying to defend him, and he appreciates that because Tadashi shouldn’t be trying to make his decisions, but-

“Did you even think of what would happen, the first time you took an underage teenager to a club? Bought him drinks, let him smoke? Handed him off to strangers? You have eyes, Amina; you can see him. You can see how people look at him.”

Tadashi actually takes a step towards her, and Hiro gasps; it’s not meant to be a threat, but it’s clearly taken as one, what with his brother’s voice like ice that makes Amina take an uncertain step backwards. “He’s a kid. He’s a _beautiful,_ lonely kid; what did you think was going to happen when you took him there? I’m not asking you, and I’m not arguing with you; if you care about Hiro even slightly, you’ll walk out of my brother’s life- and stay out.”

Amina scoffs, loud enough for Hiro to hear it from where he’s crouched against the wall. She’s angry, but Tadashi is _livid._

“And leave him alone with _you?_ No chance. You don’t scare me, Tadashi Hamada, and you can’t stop me from being there for him.” There’s silence following her words, and Hiro’s tempted to sneak a peek just in case they’re throttling each-other. Hiro finally pokes his head around the corner of the house; Tadashi’s already disappearing back into the cafe and Amina’s gone completely. Hiro fists a hand into his hair, lip caught between his teeth. 

He needs to talk to Tadashi. Hiro follows his brother silently through the house; he’s so wrapped up in his own thoughts that Tadashi doesn’t even realise he’s being followed. 

Hiro pauses in their bedroom doorway, watching as Tadashi paces the room, muttering under his breath and still unaware that Hiro’s there. Crossing his arms over his chest, Hiro watches him; Tadashi’s face is pale and his hands tangle in front of him, the shaking in his fingers obvious even from where Hiro stands. 

Stepping into the room and slamming the door behind him to get his brother’s attention, Hiro feels his gaze harden as he spots the textbooks on Tadashi’s desk; the ones Amina had brought for him. 

His friend, that Tadashi had pretty much chased away from their doorstep. 

“I saw that, down there,” Hiro says softly. “I heard it all. What the _hell_ is wrong with you.” It’s less a question and more a statement. “You...you _chased_ my friend away, Tadashi. Why? I don’t...could you please fucking explain this to me, because I’m having trouble wrapping my head around the concept of you seeming to think you’re my _fucking jailer.”_

Tadashi jumps at the sound of Hiro’s voice, whirling around to look at him. There’s a wild, fearful look on his face. 

“No.” Tadashi’s voice is choked, a tone of fear there that Hiro doesn’t understand because _why is Tadashi afraid of me?_ “No- it’s not like that, Hiro. She’s not a good- I was just-“ Tadashi’s mouth continues to move for a moment, framing words silently before his mouth closes, numb to Hiro’s anger. 

And _oh,_ is Hiro angry. 

“That’s not an answer,” Hiro says monotonously. He shakes his head with a humourless laugh. “That’s not a _fucking_ answer, Tadashi.”

Tadashi’s lips move soundlessly, curving around words that just won’t come out. “She’s not a good person, Hiro.” 

“That’s not for you to judge; you don’t even _know_ her!” Hiro shouts, hands thrown up in the air as he turns to Tadashi, feeling for the first time in his life that he’s _bigger_ than his own brother; Tadashi seems to shrink beneath his angry stare and Hiro’s not sure he likes it; his rock, his _hero_ suddenly tiny under the wave of his younger brother’s fury. “...Guess what, Tadashi? I’m not a good person, either. I’m a fucking mess, and you can’t fix it.” 

Hiro can feel himself tearing up. He laughs again, the sound almost manic because _of course he’s fucking crying._

“Is that why...is that why you can’t _love_ me? Am I just not _good enough for you?”_

“No, Hiro. No, it’s not you, it’s-“

“If you say ‘it’s me’ I’m gonna scream, Tadashi,” Hiro squeaks out, his throat tight against tears; both his own and Tadashi’s, because he can’t see the man sad, he _can’t._

“...I need to get out, I- I need to _go,”_ Hiro babbles, heading over to his chest of drawers and pulling open the bottom drawer, grabbing up a pair of tight jeans and one of his t-shirts; he’s panicking, and he needs somewhere he doesn’t have to be _himself._ “I’m going to Amina’s. I’ll stay there for a while, I can’t stay here with you, _I can’t-”_

“Wait!” Tadashi jerks forwards, hand outstretched and the emotion all too clear on his face. “I know you’re angry; you have every right to be, okay? And tomorrow- tomorrow if you’re still angry, then you can go out and stop talking to me again, but just tonight, I really-”

“You don’t get to ask me this!” Hiro cries out, taking a swipe at Tadashi’s outstretched hand and freezing at the look on Tadashi’s face; his brother looks completely _broken_ and it’s _killing him._

“I’m….I’m not good for you, Tadashi. And you’re not good for me. I just- just because you don’t want me doesn’t mean you can stop people who do.” 

Sniffling, Hiro takes a few steps backwards, holding Tadashi’s gaze because he can’t not look, can’t make it easier for himself as he’s breaking Tadashi’s heart in two. He doesn’t get to have it easy.

“I can’t ask you to love me, ‘Dashi...don’t make me stick around to see it.”

“…Okay.” Tadashi’s voice is low, dry…dead. Hiro feels his heart clench painfully, and he wants to cross the room to his brother and throw his arms around him, crying into his chest and ask Tadashi to make everything better…but he doesn’t. “I’ll- just… be safe tonight, okay?” 

Hiro holds back a sob at how _broken_ Tadashi’s voice sounds, how lost he looks as he stands, small and stooped in the middle of their bedroom. 

“For what—for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For everything.” 

There’s something very final about the way Tadashi’s talking; as if he’s accepted that Hiro can’t live in the same room as him- in the same _house_ \- without wanting to cry every time Tadashi tries to smile at him, tries to talk to him because-

“...I love you, Tadashi. I really do. And I’m sorry, too.” 

_I’m sorry that I want to be with you in a way we can’t. I’m sorry that I’m not right. I hope you’ll be okay without me, ‘Dashi, because I’m tired of seeing you hurt because of me._

Hiro pauses at the top of the stairs, looking over Tadashi’s face, his shoulders, arms, fingers...committing his brother to memory before turning on his heel and hurrying down the stairs. 

He’s glad Cass is busy downstairs in the cafe, because he doesn’t think he could sever ties with both of his only family members at the same time. He trips over the back step, eyes streaming as he pulls out his phone and types in Amina’s number. There are a few rings before she picks up. 

“Hey Hiro, what’s up baby?” 

He feels _sick,_ but- 

“C-can I come stay with you? Please? I just- I can’t be home right now.”

“...Of course Hiro. Do you need me to come and pick you up?” 

“No. I’ll walk. Thank you, Ami.” 

He hangs up a moment later before breathing for a few minutes, biting down on his lip to stop himself from crying anymore as he walks down the road, leaving the Lucky Cat firmly behind him. 

It feels like he’s leaving his heart behind, too.

\------

As soon as Hiro steps into the club, he wants to leave. The music, instead of comforting him like is usually does feels like its _oppressing_ him; pressing down on his senses and making him feel smaller than he actually is. Heavy, laden down with memories and thoughts that he just doesn’t want to have to think about. 

It’s only been a few hours, but the look on Tadashi’s face as he’d walked away is superimposed on all other memory he has of his older brother. Every happy memory, every shared joke and a lifetimes worth of laughter...all of it tarnished by the fact that he’d broken his brother. Possibly beyond repair. 

“Hiro?” Amina asked from his side, reaching out to touch his forearm gently. She looks concerned, and had done from the moment he’d stumbled across her doormat, hysterically crying and nearly knocking the smaller woman to the floor with the force of his sobs. She’d been good to him; had pulled him over to her small couch and gently pulled him down, her arms firm around his shoulders as he sobbed into her neck. She’d made him tea, bundled him into her bed and told him to sleep; that everything would be better when he woke up.

It hadn’t been. Hiro had woken up reaching for his brother who wasn’t there, who would _never_ be there again and he needed to _forget._ So he’d dragged them both out, his desperation almost palpable as he’d bought them both three rounds of drinks and Hiro’s _still here,_ still mentally focused and Tadashi’s name is being chanted along with his heartbeat, each push of blood painful because the man who shares it is _gone from him._

And yet…

He’d been outside with Amina, her dark eyes following him carefully as he fell into one of the plastic chairs that lined the small balcony that filled the smoking area when his phone had started to ring. He’d been inhaling deeply from his cigarette...and had promptly started choking when he saw the caller ID. 

_Tadashi? What are you- I can’t._ It’s fear, more than anything that makes him click the small button at the top of his phone to terminate the call. He’ll explain himself to Tadashi another time. When everything isn’t so raw and he can breathe past the lump in his throat without wondering if it’ll ever go away. 

“Who was on the phone?” Amina asks, leaning against the wall as she flicks ash away from them both. 

“...Tadashi,” Hiro answers quietly, turning the phone over in his hands; his half-smoked cigarette is smoking miserably by his shoe from where he’d dropped it. She hums thoughtfully before crouching in front of Hiro and crossing her arms across his knees. 

“Maybe you should talk to him, little man.” Hiro manages to meet her eyes, his own bare and untouched by eyeliner, for once; he doesn’t want to attract attention to the scar on his face. “I mean...he’s your brother. You don’t get another one, you know?”

“I know, Ami…” Hiro sighs, staring at his phone and wishing that Tadashi would ring him back. “It’s just...we’re in a weird place right now. It’s hard to explain.” 

“Makes me glad I’m an only child,” Amina teases, earning a small smile from Hiro before she tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear and standing. “But then, it’s kind of lonely. Don’t throw away what chances you have at having a good relationship with him, Hiro. You’ll regret it.” 

There’s a moment of silence. Hiro chews his lip before his fingers start typing out Tadashi’s number. He’s about to dial it when the device vibrates to life in his hand. 

“There you go! Told you he’d call you back,” Amina says with a smile, stubbing out her cigarette and patting Hiro’s shoulder. “I’ll give you some privacy to answer it, okay? I’ll meet you back inside, sweetie.” 

Hiro pays her no attention. He’s too busy staring at his phone, because it’s not his brother who’s calling him. 

It’s Honey. 

“...Hello? Honey?” Hiro stands and walks as far away from the open doors as possible; the music's too loud, and he can hardly make out Honey’s words. “Honey, you there? I can hardly hear y-” 

“Hiro! Where are you?!” Her voice comes through slightly muffled; by the whooshing sound that’s feeding through from her end, it’s either windy, or she’s running. There’s other noises, as well; loud voices in the background, hard to hear and harder still over the music.

“I’m- I’m out with a friend. Honey, where _are you?_ Are you okay, you sound like you-”

“I don’t give two shits if your last car ended up in a river Wasabi, move the _fuck over_ and let me drive!” GoGo? It’s definitely GoGo shouting that, more noises working their way over to Hiro. Slamming doors, loud voices. Honey’s breathing is fast, hitching now and again.

“Hiro, it’s Tadashi.” 

Time freezes. Contorts around Hiro in a way that makes him feel like he’s going to fall over. He can feel the blood rushing from his face as his heart jerks before _racing._

_It’s Tadashi._

_It’s **Tadashi.**_

“Honey, what do you mean it’s Tadashi? I don’t understand, he was- he _was_ \- Honey, where are you, please, _where are you Honey-”_

“-the phone, Honey. Hiro? Buddy, hey.” Fred interrupts, voice loud enough to be the one holding the phone at this point. He sounds calm, but tense. There’s no ease to his voice, no joke. 

“Fred? What’s happening, where’s my brother, Fred _where’s Tadashi-”_ Hiro can hear his voice rising, high and cracking like a child’s; he needs to _leave,_ needs to get out of here but he can’t go through the club, he’ll lose Fred and he can’t until he knows where his _fucking_ brother is. 

“Hey, Hiro, _listen to me._ You need to calm down, okay? Tadashi’s at the hospital; we’re on our way there, so tell you gotta tell me where you are, buddy, we’ll come get-”

“General or Hope?” 

“Hiro, just-”

_“Dammit Fred, General or Hope?!”_

“He’s at the Hope, now tell me where you are-” 

There’s a sudden loud ringing, but Hiro doesn’t care; it’s easier to push past the people who are smoking and _kick_ his way through the fire exit instead of going back through the club. He can hear people panicking, their drunken fright bouncing up the corridor towards him but it doesn’t matter. 

None of it matters. 

“I’m ten minutes from the Hope. I’ll meet you there,” Hiro says shortly down the phone, ending the call on Fred’s frantic _Hiro no, let us-!_ before he’s breaking into a run. 

His heart feels like its going a mile a minute and he feels like his vision is tunnelling but _nothing matters because Tadashi tried to **fucking call him** and he didn’t answer-_

“Shit!” Hiro cries out as he barrels into the doors at the end of the corridor, shoulder banging painfully against the wood before he staggers out into the night. The carpark’s near empty and the cold September air hits him like a slap to the face but- 

_Doesn’t matter. Look for the light. The light from the helipad come **on Hiro-**_

Turning in a loose circle, hand fisted in his hair and his lip caught between his teeth as terrified tears fall down his cheeks, Hiro spots the distant floodlights that lit up the Hospital’s helipad, and just beyond that, one of the three colossal columns that made up the Hospital’s architecture. 

“I’m coming,” he suddenly mutters before throwing himself into a sprint, arms pumping at his sides as he pushes himself forward, legs burning at the force he’s using to propel himself along but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t lay up for a second- 

_I’m coming, Tadashi. God, be okay, please be okay, I don’t want anything else, don’t need anything, I’ll **give anything** just be okay, be okay, Tadashi…_

He pays no attention to anything else. Just runs. 

Nothing else matters, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything Ends. 
> 
>  
> 
> You can find us [here,](http://annie-mantic.tumblr.com/) and [here.](http://lockandkeyblade.tumblr.com/)


	6. I'll Always Find You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why. Why would he-” But he knows why. Hiro knows why as the words click into place with the ringing crash of a crypt door closing and there’s a scream building in the back of his throat as his heartbeat suddenly rockets up, bashing out a tempo in his ears and his breath is coming too fast, too fast because Tadashi called him and he didn’t pick up the _**fucking phone**_ and-
> 
> “Where is he? Aunt Cass, where is he?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Birdandbees: Okay, admit it. How many of you thought we’d given up the goat?
> 
> Probably a few and that is totally our fault. One after another, things cropped up in our lives that meant pushing this chapter further and further back- there were a few weeks there where I was completely and utterly out of commission, so uh...mostly me, oops.
> 
> AnnieMantic: -coupled with me getting a new job, moving out of my old place and into another, paperwork oh god so much paperwork… It’s been a tough month for us both. Rest assured; it is a one off thing and unless life well and truly fucks us both, we’ll never make you wait this long again, friends. We’re very sorry, once more.
> 
> ALSO: You may have noticed that this is a PART ONE of chapter 6. We have another beefy segment that we’ll be giving to you soon! It was too big of a chapter to put into one, and to be honest… we wanted to show you how both boys are feeling. It’s our important half-way point guys!
> 
> ALSO ALSO: I MISSED GETTING TO RESPOND TO REVIEWS SO MUCH, DID YOU ALL MISS ME? DID IT MAKE YOU SUFFER MORE? I HOPE IT DID BECAUSE I SUFFERED TERRIBLY.

[ I'll Always Find You ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZWmyT8DM1r4)

* * *

**If my red eyes don't see you anymore,**

**And I can't hear you through the white noise...**

**\- Justin Timberlake (Blue Ocean Floor)**

* * *

 

_He didn’t even want to go to his appointment. Not really. The last thing Tadashi thinks will make him feel better right now is his diagnosis, and he’s right. They talk a little, but he doesn’t have much to say, and his therapist takes pity on him by laying down the news they both know he’s here for._

_Severe depression. If anything, he doesn’t know what makes it so different from normal depression; from her explanation, it has an effect on your life that can practically cripple it, either way. But the severe is there and it doesn’t go away, repeated and treated like some scientific word, rather than a nail in his coffin._

_He’d thought that finally putting proper words to it would help._

_It doesn’t._

_As he steps out onto the street, it’s dark. But it’s darker still in a way that...has been so consistent, the past month. It’s just grey. Visually, but not visually. He can see it with his mind’s eye even if he knows the colours are still there; the world’s been whitewashed and there’s a disconnect from reality as he starts the walk back home, not daring to trust himself on his moped today, but too conscious of how much stress Aunt Cass is already under to ask for that sort of favor. It’s cold._

_The shaking in his entire body hasn’t stopped since he watched Hiro walk out the door, and the harsh wind that seemingly blows right through his clothes and into his bones isn’t helping. At least it’s something; something to feel, because everything else is just…_

_Grey. It’s all grey._

_And there’s a part of him that’s scared of that. A part of him that takes notice of the fact that, when he looks up, Tadashi idly wonders what would happen if he just- changed direction and walked out into the busy, peak hour traffic right now. That takes notice of the fact that once he starts thinking of it, he doesn’t stop- or about the bridge that he knows is only a few blocks away, and if he leapt over the edge he’d land smack bang in the middle of the freeway, or how very dangerous everything he has at home is._

_It takes note of the fact that when he tries to think of his friends they’re better off without him, and when he tries to think of Aunt Cass she could use a better nephew anyway, and when he tries to think of Hiro it’s **agony lacing through him at a mile an hour** and he’s reaching for his phone and heaving with dry, raspy sobs as he presses the speed dial and prays for a fucking miracle, because God- _ God Hiro, pick up your phone. Hate him, yell at him, tell him never to call back. But pick up the phone.

_Pick up pick up pick up-_

“Hey this is Hiro; can’t take your call right now but leave a message and all that stuff, I’ll get it later.” _It cuts off abruptly in the third ring, automatically shifting to his messagebank. And the fact of the matter is that it’s not even that his brother is out enjoying himself; he saw._

_And he pressed the ignore button._

_“I need help.” Tadashi sobs; to himself, because there’s no one else there to listen. He’s still several blocks away from the tram stop; ages away from the cafe. No one he knows is close to this area, and he needs help._

_Because there’s nothing about him that’s worth living for- and everyone he loves will never be able to live with it if he goes out like this._

 

\------

 

Hiro’s a mess by the time he gets to the emergency department of San Fransokyo Hope Hospital; he bursts through the doors, chest heaving and eyes streaming, looking around in a panic as if he expects to see Tadashi sat in one of the chairs waiting for him. Like it’s all been an elaborate joke and his brother’s going to be there; tired, but okay.

He’s nowhere to be seen but his Aunt Cass is, surrounded by his friends and Hiro makes a beeline for his Aunt’s open arms with a choked off sob, clinging to her shoulders desperately before pulling back, eyes wild and tear-filled.

“Where is he? Aunt Cass, where is he?” Hiro stammers, hands shaking as she takes them between her own and gestures for him to sit. Hiro shakes his head, too wired up to sit until Honey puts her hand on his shoulder and looks pointedly at Aunt Cass; her legs are barely supporting her and she’s paler than Hiro can remember her ever being and it _scares him._

Giving her the space to sit back down before falling into the chair next to her, Hiro repeats his question, fresh tears growing on the edges of his eyelashes.

“Aunt Cass, please...where is he?”

She sighs, one arm wrapped around herself, a hand to her mouth as she chews somewhat anxiously on the side of her index finger. He’s seen her do that before, as well. When she’d picked them up from the police station that one time; after the exhibition hall fire.

“We don’t know yet, sweetie…he’s still on his way, and it could be a while before they have somewhere he’ll be staying.”

“Okay, but why is he _here?”_ Hiro’s voice wavers on the end of the sentence, his teeth digging into his lip as more tears fall; no-one’s telling him anything, he’s tired and confused and _he wants his brother._

“Hiro, hey.” Fred gently intervenes when Aunt Cass doesn’t respond, crouching down in front of Hiro’s seat and putting a hand on his knee; to support him, as much as the sad look on his face can’t. GoGo sits on his opposite side, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Listen buddy, it’s not...great for Tadashi, right now. You’ve probably noticed yourself, right? He’s been struggling with some pretty heavy stuff, and-”

A pause. Honey’s got her hands covering her mouth, eyes shining with unshed tears. GoGo gives his shoulder a squeeze before standing abruptly- and when she storms over to the nurses station, Wasabi is quick to follow. Most likely trying to keep her from getting herself kicked out.

Aunt Cass doesn’t even look like she’s hearing any of it; staring down at the floor, lost.

“We don’t know the full details yet, okay? You gotta remember that buddy; we don’t know.” Fred exhales roughly, meeting Hiro’s eye with grim determination. “From what the police said on the phone, it doesn’t sound like he actually did anything...but we don’t know.”

Hiro stares at Fred, his mouth open, his face showing obvious confusion as he shakes his head minutely from side to side. None of this makes sense; they’re all dancing around a subject that he seems to be out of the loop on and it does _nothing_ to set him at ease.

“What do you _mean,_ he didn’t do anything? Fred, I don’t understand what’s going on I just- I just need to see him, okay? Someone must know where he is, I’ll-”

“Hiro, please,” Honey says quietly as she bends down to place her hand on his thigh, her large green eyes bloodshot behind her thick-rimmed glasses. “You need to calm down; we’re all worried and none of us know anything yet, but-”

“Honey, you all know something I don’t. You keep talking about how Tadashi’s going to be okay and how you don’t _know_ anything but you know why he’s here and I don’t!” Hiro’s voice is rising, high and cracking from stress and tears, and there are a few heads that turn in his direction-

Aunt Cass pulls him against her chest, placing his head into the crook of her neck and stroking his hair, shushing him softly as Fred watches him with sympathetic eyes.

“He didn’t tell you, did he?” Aunt Cass says softly into his hair, her words followed by a sigh. “Tadashi Hamada, you idiot…”

Hiro struggles weakly against her grip, but he’s practically boxed in from all sides and all he can do is breathe harshly through his mouth as tears drip down his nose and onto his aunt’s cardigan.

“Didn’t tell me what?” His voice is small and almost non-existent. “Please...where’s my brother…”

There’s silence for a long moment as Hiro sniffles away; hands petting his hair or touching his shoulder, offering levels of comfort that just don’t matter. He needs Tadashi; nothing else matters past that. But when the silence stretches too long, he chances a look upwards to see his aunt mouthing words at Fred, pale and exhausted.

_I can’t._

“Hiro, buddy…” Fred waits until Hiro actually looks to him before continuing, words slow, careful. “Tadashi’s been seeing someone for about six weeks now, about his mental health. Tonight obviously wasn’t a good night for him.”

He rubs at his eyes, the last few words a struggle.

“The cops said he tried to kill himself.”

Hiro just stares at Fred, his mouth open and eyes wide and he feels everything just...stop. The whole room freezes; there’s a man halfway through a sneeze, as still as a snapshot and nurse over at the desk picks up a phone but doesn’t bring it up to her face.

Nothing moves. Everything stops, and the only sound Hiro can hear is Fred’s low voice, gentle as he could make it but as loud as a shout in his ears.

_He tried to kill himself._

_Tadashi tried to kill himself._

“...I..I don’t-” Hiro can feel the words coming out of his mouth, shaped by his lips and released to the air but he doesn’t hear them. Can’t stop imagining Tadashi alone somewhere bleeding out, painted across the front of a bus, plummeting from the roof of a highrise-

“Why. Why would he-” _But he knows why._ Hiro knows why as the words click into place with the ringing crash of a crypt door closing and there’s a scream building in the back of his throat as his heartbeat suddenly rockets up, bashing out a tempo in his ears and his breath is coming too fast, _too fast_ because Tadashi called him and he _didn’t pick up the **fucking** phone and-_

“Hiro? Hiro, sweetie, look at me.” He can’t. He’s too busy watching the kaleidoscope of possible deaths that Tadashi could’ve had, could still have because he was _alone in this fucking hospital and he needs to get to him, needs to be with him **now-**_

“Hiro! Look at me, now.” Aunt Cass’s voice is firm, commanding as she grabs his chin and holds it in her steady grip and forces his face up to meet hers. Her eyes are just as bloodshot as Honey’s, tear-tracks cutting clear lines through her make-up as she watches Hiro. “Breathe with me, darling. Nice and slow, c’mon, Hiro… Just breathe with me, sweetheart, in and out, you can do it, come on…”

Everything narrows down to his Aunt’s face, her exaggerated breathing and soft words; _you’re doing so well, that’s it, just breathe Hiro…_

“Where...Where-”

“Don’t try to talk, baby. Just focus on me, can you do that?”

He can. It’s hard, _god_ is it hard, but he can. His breathing shudders, catches on tears that he can’t hold back and even as he feels everything start to return to motion around him there’s still a chorus in the back of his mind; Tadashi’s here because of you. You drove him to this. You drove him to this and you _didn’t fucking help him._

“My fault…” Hiro whimpers, face crumpling like a piece of paper before he buries his face into Cass’s shoulder and _sobs._ “It’s my fault, Aunt Cass...It’s all me... _mom,_ it’s me…”

“No, baby, no…” he can hear the tears in his aunt’s voice as she clings to him, can feel Honey’s hands on his back and Fred’s thumb is a constant brush over his kneecap and in the distance he can hear Gogo’s angry voice asking _why don’t we know what’s happening-_

Hiro’s aware of the other’s surrounding him; Honey’s holding his hand now, holding it against her face and whispering words into his palm along with tears whilst Fred rises and pulls his beanie from his head in an almost _angry_ way before running his hand roughly through his long hair.

Gogo’s eyes are sympathetic. Wasabi’s barely managing to keep it together-

But it’s only an outside awareness; it’s all centered on him and his Aunt Cass, his goddamn _mother,_ trying to hold their fractured pieces together as they wait to find out where their last missing part is.

 

* * *

 

Being safe doesn’t mean feeling better, and if Tadashi’s realistic with himself, he’s aware of that. There’s no ambulance this time; he’s picked up by two cops in a squad car, and by the looks on their faces they’re not happy to see him. The questions he gets are short, sharp and curt- _what’s your name, what’s your age? You ever attempted suicide before? Do you have a history of mental illness?_

A brief exchange and he’s in the back of the car. Then at the hospital- sitting on a bed because that’s where he’s supposed to be, reading a form about his rights and answering more questions; more tired faces who aren’t happy to see him adding to the pit of guilt in his stomach for making the call to Fransokyo Lifeline in the first place.

He shouldn’t have bothered anyone with this; there’s no... _relief_ in having the world know.

Somewhere out there, someone’s already rung his aunt, who would’ve rung his friends. Would’ve rung Hiro.

Would he even pick up? If he did, would he disconnect the call the moment someone mentioned his name? He knows...he knows that he matters on some level; he’ll always matter, but what he doesn’t know is if he’s more important than the life his brother had made for himself.

And Tadashi just _doesn’t know_ what would hurt more- the look on Hiro’s face if his brother walks through that door... or leaving here without him walking through it even once.

But at least...he’s alive, to have that concern. Exhausted and more stressed than he’s ever felt, emotions leaving his hands shaking no matter how he arranges them in his lap, but alive. There’s a nurse outside his door (who may have introduced themselves, but names and faces are beyond him right now) who’ll ensure that he stays that way...not that…

He shouldn't need help to actually stay alive. Tadashi huffs out through his nose; not particularly amused, but calmer than earlier.  Lost in the sense of quiet in the room, left alone with a building sense of just how much he’s continued to fuck up.

 _If_ Hiro stayed on the phone long enough to have heard about this, it’s going to kill him.Tadashi licks his lips, staring blankly over at a portrait of some flowers on the wall opposite, and does his best to think of absolutely anything else.

There’s the far-off sound of ringing; a loud, jarring sound that’s repeated once, twice, three times… confused, Tadashi twists to look at the nurse who’s sat outside his room; she gives him a small smile, but shows no concern towards the sound, so Tadashi returns the motion before resettling himself, hands trembling in his lap.

“Ta-Tadashi-”

It’s not visiting hours, so he can’t blame himself for not expecting...this. Hiro at the doorway, still dressed like he’s been out for a night on the town, looking like his whole world has been broken apart. Staring at him like he’s some sort of ghost, like he didn’t expect to see him again. He’d figured that he’d at least have until morning to set himself right; pull himself together enough to put a smile on his face and laugh the situation away. Instead-

“God, Tadashi…” Hiro looks wretchedly heartbroken, and it’s just not surprising anymore that he’d the one who put that there, no matter how surprising _seeing him_ is.

“H-Hiro?”

Tadashi rises shakily to his feet, and that’s all Hiro needs to close the space between them by half-running into his arms. He almost falls back onto the bed with the force behind his slim frame as Hiro collides with him, arms wrapping around his slender form almost automatically as his brother’s own come up to wrap around his neck.  Tadashi feels it, the moment he buries his face into his shoulder and just… breathes him in. He can feel Hiro almost panting raggedly against his neck, face pressed firmly into his skin.

“You’re… you’re _still here,”_ Is all he manages to get out, muffled into Tadashi’s skin as his arms cling tighter, pushing himself up onto his toes in order to better align their bodies. He’s shaking as much as Tadashi is, words breathed out like his brother doesn’t quite believe them to be true, and Tadashi cuts in with a quiet “Shh, Hiro. Shh; hey buddy, c’mere,” because that’s what he does and this is what he understands. 

It’s easy to turn around and put his focus back on what he knows, sitting down on the bed to pull Hiro into his lap. He keeps an arm securely around his waist- but he hasn’t stopped _shaking_ for hours and it’s so prominent that he can’t hold him tight enough to stop it.

“It’s not your fault, okay? You need to know that. I’m o-” The word gets stuck in his throat. Placating motions of his hand against Hiro’s back slow, Tadashi’s breathing ragged as he swallows and tries again, voice too hoarse to make it believable. “I’m okay, buddy. I’m alright...”

He’s not. And that very quickly becomes apparent when he abandons his attempts to make Hiro feel better, and just.. holds him there, crying into that mop of ridiculous hair, arms wrapped about his little brother because his hands are practically useless with how they’re convulsing; sharp, agonised tremors that lace through his entire body with every breath.

Sniffing hard, Hiro pushes himself up so he’s taller than Tadashi is, pulling him forward and slotting his face against his own neck before moving his hands up and down to follow the curve of Tadashi’s spine; through his hair, across his cheeks to catch tears as Tadashi _sobs,_ wet and cloying and _painful._

Hiro has no words, only soft sounds to offer as he rocks them back and forth, hands smoothing over Tadashi’s broken edges as if he could heal them through touch alone. He whispers half-formed words and croons softly against Tadashi’s hair, rubbing his nose and cheek across the soft strands.

What he needs right now is this. He needs to _hold Hiro_ so he knows he’s okay. He needs to cry, because he’s exhausted. Exhausted from running a dangerous line on his own, exhausted from keeping his head up every time he’s wanted to bow down. Hiro murmurs sweet, senseless things to him, and Tadashi holds him all the tighter for it; the silly, tooth-gaped kid who really isn’t a baby anymore but he’s _his baby, his darling child._

Never. Never has he allowed himself the opportunity to cry in front of Hiro; not since they were kids. Not since the funeral, and even then, his brother had been too young to understand; cold and _I want gummy beawrs, 'Dashi._

He snorts out of a laugh through his tears, shaking his head when Hiro’s humming turns into a question. You don’t submit yourself into a hospital and then turn around to explain exactly how endearing a presence someone is in your life, how vitally important.

“I’m here, ‘Dashi.” Hiro finally manages to murmur into his ear, his voice softer than he’s heard it in a long time. He rubs large circles across the broadness of Tadashi’s shoulders and rests his cheek on the top of his head.

“I’m here.”

“I know.” He whispers back, voice like gravel and throat parched. He hasn’t cried like that in...a very long time, and the search for water is what makes him lean back, eyes taking in Aunt Cass in the doorway; Fred and Honey behind her. Wasabi and GoGo wouldn’t be too far behind, probably lurking just beyond view, and despite the mortification he should be feeling, all Tadashi manages is a wane smile, grip around Hiro tightening because _just tonight, Hiro. Just for tonight--_ he can be excused for holding his brother like he’s the most precious thing in the entire world.

“Hey Aunt Cass, guys…”

“Hey sweetie..” Aunt Cass flocks to him immediately, fingers gently running through his hair; bumping over Hiro’s. He lets his head tilt slightly, seeking her affection; no shame to be found right now in receiving that, not even in the company of so many others. As they file into the room, one by one, he closes his eyes, heart squeezing at the _pain_ he’s caused them all tonight.

“I’m so sorry about all of this, I’m-”

“It’s cool, dude.”

“Sweetie, no-”

“Tadashi, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“We’re just really happy to see you.”

“We’re here for you, man. Happy to be.”

“Guys,” Hiro says softly as Tadashi huffs out a small sound of amusement. Hiro’s able to look them all in the face from where he’s positioned above him, and he can’t have missed the identical concern on all of their faces. Tadashi certainly hasn’t. “One at a time, maybe?”

“Always knew that brain of yours would be good for something,” Fred tries as he comes forward, slapping a hand over Tadashi’s shoulder. He jumps in spite of himself, his friend’s hand jerking back slightly, before coming to a far more tentative rest over his shirt.

Out of everyone in this room, he supposes...Fred knows the most. As much as Cass and possibly more, from days and weeks and months of high school together, where secrets were sometimes a little more deathly serious than either of them should have been dealing with. He’s the easiest out of everyone to look in the eyes, even if he can see tears welling in them.

“...Don’t scare me like that again, okay?” Fred’s lip wobbles, which is the only sign of distress he shows before sitting heavily and managing to hide his face against Tadashi’s arm. “Don’t do that again, dude…”

They all start coming closer, whispering soft words and sniffing past tears as they cocoon both Hamadas in affection; Cass has her arms looped loosely around Tadashi’s shoulders, pressed against his back and running her hand through his hair whilst Gogo crouches next to them and rubs a circle into his knee. Honey sits next to Tadashi’s far side and buries her face in his neck as best she can whilst Wasabi stands right behind Hiro and breathes deeply to stop himself from crying.

They’ve never had the picturesque family. Its what he’d tried to provide for Hiro growing up; a strong father figure to go with the mom Aunt Cass didn’t seem to realise she was capable of being, but as Hiro got older the image fell apart. He wasn’t a father, just a brother doing his best to offer what he could; to be the male influence in Hiro’s life. To be his brother. His best friend.

Aside from Fred, he hadn’t actually met any of his friends until he’d hit SFIT. They’d survived their first year together, struggling to make their own space around each other’s experiments, learning to live with bad habits and even worse tempers... and somehow in the midst of it he’d found himself with another family; a bit more mixed up and rag tag than the tiny family of three he’d always had going for him, but more people he trusted to be there for life. Be there for him.

Lord, he’d scared them all tonight. A fact that kept repeating itself again and again in his mind, and despite the fact that he’s not nearly good enough to deserve them all ( _but that isn’t something he gets to decide; they decide that. They decide whether he’s good enough_ ) he opens his arms and pulls in everyone as best he can, and for the next five minutes it’s nothing but tears and admissions of fear and apologies.

At one point, he chances a look up; Hiro’s staring back down at him, fingers still combing through his hair, eyes attentive, more focused than he’s seen them in weeks. There’s no words, they don’t smile- but he rests his head back against Hiro’s neck, sniffing slightly. Someone needs to pass around some tissues; no doubt they all need it.

“Oh...after all this, I think we’ll be living on pizza for about three days straight.” Aunt Cass wipes her eyes on the back of her hand, forcing cheer into her voice and a smile on her face that steadily grows more strong the longer she wears it. She’s always been brave and he loves her for it. “What do you think, gang? Movie night? Movie week, even; I could whip up enough popcorn to make a cinema chain jealous.”

“Sweet!” Fred crows, and Tadashi chuckles, slowly forcing himself to relax a little as everyone drops away, giving him some space. Everyone but Hiro, who seems happy enough where he is even as Tadashi straightens up to rub slow, comforting circles into his back. He’s okay; okay enough for this at least. To smile a little longer, to hold his brother and slowly shift back into taking care of him rather than being taken care _of._

“I think that’s an awesome idea….although I don’t think we’ve got enough movies to last us a week.”

“Fred’s only allowed to bring five. _Just five._ ” Wasabi holds a hand up as the blond turned to him, already pouting. “There’s only so many out of date kaiju movies a man can take.”

“I’ll bring all your favorite horror movies, Wasabi.” GoGo smirks over at him, and the look of abject horror (only slightly exaggerated) has a titter of laughter working about the room, and it’s enough. It’s enough to have them all planning for when things are back to normal; plenty still left to be said, but set aside for a brief window of time; it’s not going anywhere.

Hiro doesn’t seem as interested in joining in the conversation; and as the topic begins to branch out into separate chats, he settles further into Tadashi’s arms, lowering himself back down onto his haunches so he can mimic his brother’s previous position and rest his head against Tadashi’s neck. Tadashi does his best to accommodate him; he’s loathe to let Hiro go now, not when his nose is stuffy and his head is full of a numb buzz that he can almost pretend is calm. He runs his hand over Hiro’s side in a gentle, back and forth motion...it must be a night for nostalgia, because he’s done this before, as well. When Hiro was young. When he needed that kind of comfort to fall asleep amidst a storm, or after a bad dream.

“...You okay?” Hiro whispers after a moment into Tadashi’s throat, fingers playing slowly through his short hair. No-one is paying them all the much attention as they carry on their own quiet conversations, voices filling the room with a pleasant mingling of sound that’s far more relaxing than the dead quiet he’d been in before. “Are you… are you _gonna_ be okay?”

“I’m okay, buddy.” He murmurs back, cheek resting against Hiro’s hair. Aunt Cass seems intent on making this pizza week a legitimate event- or at least a pizza night, though he notices that no one mentions dates or _tomorrow._ Relieved enough to plan a gathering, but careful enough to understand that he’s not out of the woodworks, yet.

Like Hiro. “I’ll be alright...I had a silly moment, that’s all. Only thing I’ve done tonight is irritate a few people.”

“Shut up.” Hiro pouts at him, pounding weakly against his back with a fist, and Tadashi laughs at him before they both relax once more into each-other’s bodies. It’s probably a little too… intimate of a display, considering they’re not alone, but Tadashi thinks it’ll slide; even without the huge emotional turmoil, before all… _this,_ they always had been close. It wasn’t so weird to find them curled up asleep together, arms around each-other and faces close.

They’ve all had enough drama for one night, so Tadashi hopes his thoughts ring true.

“So… what happens now, Tadashi?” Honey’s voice is quiet and soft, and the tone makes it obvious that she doesn’t want to be the person to ask this question as the conversations die down. She’s toying with the edge of her cardigan and looking at her feet, and Hiro tightens his arms around his brother’s shoulders protectively.

“Does it matter?” Hiro answers before Tadashi can get a word out; it’s obvious that he’s trying his best not to sound like he’s lashing out at Honey, but there’s a catch to his words that betrays him. Hiro’s been wondering the same thing, just like everybody else has; Tadashi doesn’t blame them for being afraid to ask. “He’s _fine_ now, so we can all just-”

“It’s okay, Hiro.” Tadashi interrupts him gently, hold tightening for a moment. _It’s okay, Hiro. I’m sorry._ His gaze rests on Honey, though he’s aware that all eyes are on him; nerve wracking, to say the least. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

He hadn’t thought that far ahead, at the time. He’d wanted to die; thinking of the people around him wasn’t taking away that urge. Panicked and alone, certain that none of them would get to him in time, Hiro not picking up-

Dialing a suicide hotline had been the only thing his mind had come up with, though in retrospect...Tadashi still isn’t sure he made the right choice. If he hadn’t, he probably would’ve been okay. Scared, but okay. Now he has to live with the consequences- for better or worse, he chose his path. As his dad used to say… he had to stick the course.

“I signed a release form when I arrived. Should be seeing a doctor sometime in the next twelve hours; after that… it’s possible they might want me to talk to someone else. I could be here for a while.”

Hiro’s quiet as Tadashi talks, playing idly with the collar of his shirt before straightening up and levelling him with a _look._ Tadashi stares back, immediately wary. What insidious plot was he planning this time?

“Then I’ll be here awhile, too.”

Less insidious than expected. And...honestly, there’s nothing Tadashi would like more. The weak look he gives Hiro is more than a testament to that, though he still shakes his head with a strained smile. “I don’t know if they’ll allow you to, buddy. I’m not an emergency case.”

“Of course they will; the nurses are nice, I’m sure they won’t mind.” Yawning, Hiro steps daintily off of Tadashi’s lap before stretching the kinks out of his spine. “S’not like I take up much space.”

“At least for tonight, sweetie? I’ll feel better knowing your brother’s here,” Aunt Cass adds as she comes closer, combing her fingers through Tadashi’s hair softly. “I’m sure it’s not such a strange thing for visitors to stay.”

How’s he supposed to say no to that?

“Alright, Hiro.” Sighing, Tadashi nods his acquiescence, though his eyes go to Hiro with sharp concern, tone taking on a slight edge of lecturing. “But you ask once; if they say no, it’s a no, alright buddy? One Hamada causing problems is enough for tonight.”

“I’ll make sure he behaves himself.” GoGo volunteers, looking to Hiro and nodding towards the door. “C’mon, junior. Let’s take a walk.”

“I’ll be back.” Hiro promises him, looking back at him from the doorway before disappearing from sight. Tadashi shakes his head, amusement curling his lips upwards for a moment before he meets Fred’s eye, and the smile fades.

“I really am sorry.”

“Dude, does it look like we’re blaming you?” Fred waves a hand at him, grinning crookedly. “I think we all wish you’d called us, but thing is, wishing something doesn’t make it realistic.”

“You did the right thing, sweetheart.” His aunt...bless her. As worn and as tired as she is, she’s still managing a smile, and he reaches out to pull her into a hug that’s gladly received. Honey’s nodding in her usual, enthusiastic manner- Wasabi leans against the wall, arms crossed and a smile on his face.

There’s no room for him to misunderstand; they get it. As much as they possibly can, and what they don’t get, they’re willing to accept. Tadashi closes his eyes for a moment, grateful that Hiro had pulled so many tears from him earlier; there’s only so many group hugs he’s up for, tonight.

“Tadashi, we’re always gonna be here for you. And Hiro, too.” Honey clasps her hands together, expression full of earnest honesty- no, she wouldn’t forget Hiro. She was a big sister herself, just as ridiculously overprotective as he was, in some respects. It’s funny just how well she knows him; enough to see that promising him that Hiro would be okay was a better salve for his raw emotions than anything else.

“Thanks. I really don’t know what’s going to happen yet; I could be home tomorrow, but-”

“Maybe not.” Wasabi concludes, brow furrowing. “It’s cool, really. We’ll hold down the fort if we have to. Four of us might manage stepping in for one guy for a week.”

“Fellas, please. Me and Hiro are big kids now; sweetie, this is about _you._ ” His aunt leans away from him, cupping his cheek and directing his attention towards herself. She looks at him, and Tadashi’s almost afraid of what she sees now; the mess of a man that came out of the nine year old boy she’d taken home, a little three year old with chubby cheeks sleeping on his shoulder. “I know you love us; we all do. Whatever needs to happen from here needs to be for you.”

“I’m not a professional, man...but from what I _do_ know, they should give you a few options.” Fred scratches his cheek, squinting over at the window. “Whatever you decide from there, we’ll still be here, so...take it easy on yourself, dude. Let us handle our problems for a while.”

His mouth stays open for several moments, like there’s more to be said, before he resolutely closes his mouth. The blond only meets his eyes for a second before looking away awkwardly, and Tadashi knows what he wants to say.

_Even Hiro. Let Hiro handle Hiro._

The nurse, Hiro explains as he bounds back into the room with a small smile on his face, is happy for him to stay (as long as he doesn’t cause any trouble) and everyone is getting ready to leave as both Hiro and Gogo come back into the room; Cass has yet to leave his side, hugging him tightly against her chest before cupping his face and forcing it up so she can look him in the eye.

“I love you, Tadashi Hamada. Don’t you _ever_ forget that, okay?” Her voice is strong, stronger than she looks with tears beading at the corners of her eyes. “You and Hiro are my _world,_ and I will _always_ be here for you, got it?”

“I love you too, Aunt Cass; I won’t forget.” Tadashi hugs her back just as tightly, standing so he can kiss her cheek and see her to the door, taking warm gestures from all of his friends in turn. A hug from Honey; a fist bump from Wasabi. Fred is fast enough to fling himself into his arms, and even GoGo surprises him with a fierce hug and a gentle fist against his side.

“Take care of yourself, Hamada. Hiro will rat you out if you don’t.”

“I will. I’ll see you all soon.” They step out the door one by one, voices growing softer as they move through the ward, and Tadashi wonders how many of them will get some sleep tonight. Likely...none of them, if he’s honest with himself. How he’d managed to secure himself to the biggest group of worry warts, he’d never know.

Though the biggest worrier of all is still waiting for his attention. Exhausted, Tadashi offers Hiro a soft and hopeful smile before opening his arms to his brother; it feels...ridiculously good to have Hiro simply fall straight into them, not a single question asked. Anger nowhere to be found.

If he’d known this would fix everything, maybe he would’ve submitted himself sooner, Tadashi thinks wryly. That kind of morbid thinking would get him in trouble, one day.

“C’mon, buddy. We might as well get comfortable.”

Hiro nods against his shoulder, arms tightening around his middle before letting go in order to switch off the light and close the door.

“Um, I can keep an eye on him, if that’s okay?” Tadashi hears his brother says timidly to the nurse sat outside his door. Humming, the woman stands up before nodding.

“I’ll be poking my head around from time to time; let me know if you want to go anywhere,” she informs him, giving Tadashi a once-over before Hiro closes the door with a click. Tadashi pulls back the blankets and takes his shoes off as Hiro comes closer, toeing out of his own bright shoes before emptying his pockets. He blinks, hands closed around something before he opens them sheepishly; a box of cigarettes and his phone.  

Tadashi smiles wearily at him before gesturing to the carton of smokes. As much as he hates the thought of Hiro smoking, the last thing he wants is to argue about them tonight. Another time, when he has the energy and the will to stand up against the hurricane that is Hiro Hamada when angered. “D’you wanna go downstairs and have one first?”  

Holding his brother’s eyes for a moment, Hiro bites his lip before dropping both the box and his lighter into the nearby trashcan, shaking his head as he does so.

“I’m good.”

There’s a fierce, protective flare of pride in his chest as Hiro gets into the bed first, shuffling over to give him enough space to follow. Throwing them away is such… a small gesture, but one that holds a lot of gravity.

_You’re growing up right in front of me, aren’t you?_

Fitting both of them onto the narrow bed is difficult, but they manage it, face to face and close enough that if Hiro exhales through his mouth Tadashi knows he’ll feel it, reaching up and threading Hiro’s fingers through his own, resting their hands between them.

An hour ago, he’d been considering what to do if Hiro never even bothered to show. The very concept of it is ridiculous, and as much as he’d known that at the time, reminding himself that Hiro _never hated him,_ that _of course he’d care. Of course he’d drop everything to be here-_

There was a voice in his mind, a train of thought that wanted him to believe otherwise. He was glad that it had been proven wrong on something, staring at Hiro’s face and allowing his mind to focus on the moon lighting up the curve of his cheek, forcing it to focus. One thing at a time; just one thing. Just Hiro, right now.

“...I don’t want to fight anymore, ‘Dashi,” Hiro whispers as he strokes lightly over his face with his fingertips, soft over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. “I… I don’t know what’s going to happen, but it’s gotta be better than before, right?”

“I know. I don’t want to fight either. We’ll work it out, okay? You and me.” He can’t...keep running from this. Can’t pretend that Hiro will allow things to go back to the way they were; the things they’ve felt and the things they’ve _done_ won’t allow for that; the more he’s fought it, the more he’s pushed Hiro away, to the point where he wouldn’t even answer his phone.

“...You know, this isn’t your fault, buddy. It’s really not; don’t even think it.” His words are soft but his eyes are sharp, looking for any sign of guilt left to soothe away. He remembers, with painful clarity, what it was like to find Hiro on the ground, covered in his own blood. That had been his fault; too busy hiding to do the right thing.

He wasn’t about to let Hiro sit with that same remorse.

“How… how can it _not_ be my fault?” Hiro answers in a small voice. He seemingly shrinks in on himself as Tadashi watches, eyes unfocused, seeing memories that Tadashi isn’t privy to, though he can imagine what they might contain. Arguments. Bitterness. A hell of a lot of giving up, by both of them.

“I...I pushed you. I’ve been pushing you for a long time.” Hiro’s words are halting, self-deprecating. “I’m… I’m sorry I _feel_ this way. About _you._ I keep fucking things up and I don’t-”

“Shh, hey…” Tadashi squeezes his hand, shaking his head with a fond expression. “It takes two to tango. We’ve both got a bit of messing up to make up for, hm?”

He hesitates to say more. There’s plenty that Hiro doesn’t know; plenty he’s never really needed to know, and Tadashi can’t say he’s keen to say it all now. But the look on Hiro’s face makes him seem smaller than he already is, words bitter and entirely directed inwards, hatefully shutting himself down when _no, that’s not what Hiro needs. His little brother; the rebellious free spirit...he’s still growing. Still has a lot more growing to do before he’s ready to come into himself._

“Yeah…” Hiro’s voice is becoming slower; sluggish. “I’m so fuckin’ glad you’re here, ‘Dashi,” Hiro murmurs as he inches across the pillow so he’s close enough to press their foreheads together.

“It’s okay, Hiro; I’m right here.” Tadashi assures just as quietly. His closes his eyes, exhaustion and too many tears making them ache. He doesn’t need to see Hiro to feel him; a reassuringly close warmth, a gentle press against his forehead.

It scares him to think of Hiro considering this; scares him that he’s the one who’s forced the idea into his mind. He can’t take it back; panic and a build up of things that Tadashi should’ve taken care of  long before this exploding into a catastrophe that had left everyone he loved scared...but he can make sure it never happens again. Not matter what the cost.

“I’m always going to be here. I won’t let things get this bad again, I promise.” He presses his lips to Hiro’s forehead, chaste and brief. A physical representation of his own words.

He can’t go on thinking the way he has, and he’ll fix it by whatever means necessary. For Hiro’s sake.

“M’sorry I didn’t answer the phone, T’dashi…” Hiro murmurs against his throat, his hand moving up and over Tadashi’s middle and bringing them closer together. “I just… I was so _mad_ at you, and I-”

“You had a good reason to be.” Tadashi admits ruefully. Even so, it’s no reason to allow Hiro to blame himself, and he huffs softly against his brother’s hair, not particularly amused despite the laughter. “I’m sorry for scaring you, buddy.”

“...Idiot.” Hiro chokes out a soft laugh, and Tadashi’s arms tighten around his brother even as he feels him do the same. Hiro bumps his head into his shoulder, and Tadashi hears him sniffing; muffled notes of distress into his shirt. He can’t tell if he’s crying, or not...

“I need you to look after yourself. Just… please do that for me.” It’s raw and desperate, stealing Tadashi’s voice away as his throat closes up from the rush of affection he feels for his little brother, right now. Affection, adoration- worry, so much worry, all the damn time-

When he was nine, he’d promised himself that he’d never let Hiro worry about him. That’s not what big brothers were for.

He might have let himself down, on that one.

“Okay, bud. We’ll… we’ll work it out. How about some sleep, hmm? I think...I think I’ll be seeing someone in the morning to discuss...everything.”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. I’ll come with you… you don’t have to go in alone…”

He’s been so tired lately that all he’s wanted to do is sleep, but of course, it’s just not that easy. Tadashi’s eyes are burning from the emotional and physical exhaustion, but awareness lingers, rest a light doze at best. Even that’s given up completely when Hiro proves to be restless, flinching awake with fearful little calls of his name that he soothes away as best he can, until neither of them seem content to let sleep take them.

They don’t talk, even when Hiro seemingly gives up on the notion of sleeping and simply lies on his side staring at his brother; letting his fingers come up to trace the lines of his face and stroke through his hair. In return, Tadashi’s own fingers trace over the healing scar on his brow, over the high arches of his cheekbones and the metal caught in his lip.

There’s something about not talking that’s more soothing than anything else. Something about watching Hiro watch him, reciprocating gentle touches, relearning the face that means so much to him…

Hiro has a magnetism to him, one that entrances Tadashi and steals the time away just from the simple, unthinking pleasure of looking at him, even as light begins to creep through the window, as Hiro’s eyes become more and more lidded. Tadashi’s almost irritated at the knock on the door, his first concern making sure that Hiro’s alright as he sits up and calls out softly. A nurse opens the door slowly, her hand on the door-handle as she smile at them sympathetically. 

“Some of the doctors want to talk to you, Mister Hamada. If you’ll come with me?”

“One moment, sorry.” He smiles apologetically as the nurse gives him a nod, waiting outside for him as he runs a hand through Hiro’s hair, leaning down to press his lips against the crown of his head.

“I don’t think I’ll be too long, Hiro. You should get some breakfast while you’ve got the chance; I doubt this’ll be the last talk today.”

“But what about you?” Hiro answers sleepily, rubbing his tired eyes as he sits up. Checking over his hair to make sure it’s not too rumpled, Tadashi ducks into the bathroom to rinse out his mouth; it’s not much in the way of keeping clean, but it’ll have to do for now. Any requests for Hiro to bring a toothbrush up from the giftshop might not go down too well, as of yet…

“Sorry, bud; I don’t have my phone on me. They, uh… took everything off me when I was checked in.”

“Oh…” Hiro’s voice sounds small, and Tadashi peeks out through the bathroom door; Hiro’s picking at his nails, seemingly lost. “How am I gonna find you?”

“We’ll meet back here. I doubt they’ll shift me anywhere else at this time of the morning- and if they do, I’ll make sure they let you know, okay?” Stepping back out into the room, he gives Hiro the most encouraging smile he can manage for the moment, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide the tired tremor in his fingers. “It’ll be okay; Fred told me a bit about what to expect from here, so I won’t be going anywhere all of a sudden.”

“How does Fred know?” Hiro asks, cocking his head to the side as he looks up at him. Tadashi opens and closes his mouth for a moment before smiling weakly at his brother.

“...Ask him. It’s not my place to say.” Tadashi gestures with his head to the door, and Hiro sighs before swinging his legs over the side of the mattress and grabbing his shoes.

“I’ll be quick, alright? And I’ll pick you something up for when you get back… D’you want a coffee? I mean, it might be cold by the time you get here, but iced coffee’s a thing, and it’s really good…”

“Hiro.” His brother is a nervous babbler. It happens; mostly when he’s lying, pulling things out of the air to try and fill the space and direct others away from what the actual problem really is. He doesn’t even need to know Hiro all that well to pick up on it; but Tadashi supposes knowing him as well as he does still has some benefit.

Because he gets what the problem is, too, crouching down in front of him and holding out his hand. A moment’s hesitation and Hiro takes it, letting Tadashi rub his thumb soothingly across the inside of his wrist.

“I’m okay. And I’ll feel a lot better knowing you’ve had something to eat; you didn’t have anything before you went out last night, did you?” He raises a brow knowingly; Hiro isn’t about to tell him otherwise.

Although if he’s really honest with himself, he’s just as scared of letting go, too.

 

* * *

 

 

Hiro feels the lie of the tip of his tongue before he peeks up and catches Tadashi’s eyes; they’re clear, holding no fear or worry… just a calm acceptance that makes Hiro breathe in deeply before exhaling slowly. Without another word, he slides off the bed and onto the floor between Tadashi’s knees, wrapping his arms around his brother’s neck.

“You come back to me. You come back quickly, okay?” he whispers fiercely into his brother’s ear. He _knows_ that nothing’s going to happen, knows that Tadashi is in the safest place he could be…

_I’m not losing you._

Tadashi gives him a quick squeeze before Hiro lets go, clambering to his feet and giving Tadashi a confident smile.

“I’m bringing you back donuts. None of that fruity granola shit, okay?”

“Language,” is the only response Hiro gets before he forces himself to turn his back on Tadashi and walk out of the room and head down the corridor. His arms are crossed, almost as if he’s hugging himself as he walks; as soon as he steps off the ward and into one of the Hospital’s main corridors, Hiro breaks out into a run.

Regardless of how long Tadashi’s ‘talk’ will take, Hiro wants to be back at the room long before his brother is. He needs to make sure that Tadashi will have someone to come back to.

That he’ll _always_ have someone to come back to.

  


* * *

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	7. You Found Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very best he can do is not look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bird: I just want to say, thank you so much to all of you for all your wonderful reviews and patience! This part of the chapter made me and Annie very glad that we broke chapter six up...altogether it would’ve neared 17k words, and maybe that’s a little too much for anyone to read in one sitting.
> 
> Annie: We’re proud of this one… but we’re also glad to see the back of it because chapter 7 comes next, eeeeeeeeeeeeeee-

 

[You Found Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T_qB7yvcwRQ&feature=youtu.be)

* * *

 

Hiro returns with the promised bounty; a bag of mini donuts and an iced coffee, just in case Tadashi is still with the doctors by the time he's made it back to the room.

Therefore, he's surprised to see Tadashi sat on his bed when he returns, giving him a wane smile as Hiro approaches, offering the poor excuse for a breakfast he'd managed to salvage.

"What did they say?" Hiro asks anxiously as he sits down and hands Tadashi his coffee; his brother usually takes it black, but Hiro's got him sugared this time. Tadashi looks a little too unsteady for him to feel completely comfortable with it.

"Not much. A therapist should be coming by sometime this afternoon," Tadashi replies as he opens the paper bag and nibbles on a donut, taking small bites and washing them down with sips of coffee. He's not eating much, Hiro notes as he watches his older sibling like a hawk over the polystyrene rim of his own cup. He keeps it to himself, however; Tadashi looks like any more pressure will cause him to fold like a house of cards.

Hiro refuses to be the reason that Tadashi breaks further.

Then they’ve got time to kill, and very little to do that with. Hiro brings up a game of solitaire on his phone, and they wind up sitting on the bed together, Hiro sat comfortably between his brothers knees as Tadashi watches over his shoulder, taking turns to play as the other points out moves that could be made with a quiet voice and a finger that blocks out most of the screen. Not the most fun they’ve had, if Hiro were honest. Could be doing more.

Tadashi's hands keep clenching every now and again, fists pressing against Hiro's stomach. It's fortunate that all it takes to soothe him is a delicate touch to the backs of his brother's hands and a question about the card game, stealing his attention away.

It's a little boring; Hiro's mind is running too fast to find any entertainment in the repetition of the game... But it's enough to have a few quiet hours with his brother, up until everything changes.

“Mister Hamada?” There’s a gentle knock on the open door that makes them both look up; the kindly lady staring back is about the least threatening person he’s ever seen. Perfect for helping his brother, despite the suspicion Hiro feels.

She smiles gently at his acknowledgement, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her, only leaving it slightly ajar.

She nods to both of them politely before holding out her hand, hair bobbing gently in a neat bun. “My name is Himora Masuoka; I was hoping to have a talk with you, if you’d be willing to do so.”

“Of course.” Tadashi shakes her hand, looking over to Hiro questioningly. “This is my brother, Hiro; is it alright if he-”

“Of course; so long as you’re comfortable, Hiro’s more than welcome.” She takes Hiro’s hand in turn, with a smile just for him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

Hiro keeps quiet as the doctor- he can see her badge hanging from the front of her blouse- introduces herself, smiling at him in such a kind way that he can’t help smiling back. He’s nervous.

Not for himself, but for Tadashi, who scoots forward to sit on the edge of the mattress with his back ramrod straight and shoulders tense. There’s no way that the conversation is going to be easy, so Hiro crawls forwards and sits next to his brother before linking his pinky through Tadashi’s.

_I’m here. It’s going to be alright._

“Did you sleep well, Tadashi?” Himora asks as she pulls over one of the nearby folding chairs and sits down in front of them, placing her bag on the floor and reaching inside to draw out a leather bound notebook and pen. She must notice Hiro’s distrustful look as she opens it to a blank page; she looks up with a gentle smile before turning the book so Hiro can see where she’s jotted down the date in neat handwriting. “Just in case I need to make some notes on what we all talk about, Hiro. I’m afraid my memory’s not what it used to be.” She turns her attention back to Tadashi, patiently waiting for his response.

“Sure…” Hiro says slowly; he strokes the back of Tadashi’s hand with his thumb before turning to look at his brother. Tadashi looks like the question is one that he doesn’t have an answer for, and Hiro’s half tempted to answer it for him-

But it isn’t about him. It’s about Tadashi, so Hiro keeps his mouth shut and gives his older brother a smile when he looks at him with frightened eyes. _You’ve got this, ‘Dashi. C’mon, man._

“We slept alright.” Tadashi murmurs eventually, and Hiro can hear the guilt in his voice for the lie. Himora’s response is a simple smile, however, wrinkles at the corners of her eyes all the more prominent.

“That’s good to hear. I realise you’ve both had quite the day already, so I’ll try not to take up too much of your time.” She sets the notepad in her lap, crossing her legs into a more casual position before continuing. “Being in hospital is never fun for anyone, but I want you both to know that what we talk about today will stay in this room unless you advise me otherwise, or there’s any concerns that you may be in danger.”

“Thank you. I understand.” Tadashi responds meekly, and she laughs; a low, soft sound as she claps her hands together.

“I also hope you’ll forgive my rudeness in calling you by your first names; two mister Hamadas might be a bit too much, hm?”

“It’s fine; I prefer Tadashi, same as Hiro.”

Hiro nods in agreement, offering the doctor a small smile; she’s getting Tadashi comfortable, making the sharp lines of his shoulders relax a small amount and Hiro feels the same relief. Himora catches his eye and her smile grows a little; she’s good.

“So...last night must still be a little raw for everyone; I was thinking before we talk about that, maybe I could ask you about your conversation with doctor Hennison, earlier. You mentioned to him that you’d experienced periods of depression before, and saw a psychologist during that time?”

“Yes, that’s right. I was referred to a therapist when I was nine, after the death of our parents...and I saw someone during the last few years of highschool, as well.”

Hiro’s probably staring up at Tadashi with a horrified expression, but he’s too surprised to be able to school it into something more acceptable.

Tadashi’s… had this before. These periods of hopelessness his entire _life_ and Hiro… never knew. Never thought that his brother was anything other than the happy-go-lucky goofball who’s always been there for him, always ready with a kind word and kinder smile.

He’s been struggling for years, and Hiro did _nothing._ He can feel a heavy weight forming in his stomach like a ball of lead as he thinks back over the course of their life; Hiro was four when their parents died, so he doesn’t remember them all too well; but Tadashi...

“Yet your first diagnosis wasn’t until yesterday, is that right?”

“That’s right, yes.”

“It sounds like there’s been a few things you’ve had a rough time with, over the years.” Her gaze is so gentle, and Tadashi huffs out a nervous laugh before licking his lips and continuing.

“I guess so. It was- difficult, after our parents died. And robotics wasn’t something that came naturally to me, at first. I pushed myself pretty hard to get things right...and for a while there nothing really came out that way.”

Hiro slowly threads his fingers through his brother’s own, not caring that Himora can see; Tadashi looks distressed, despite how quickly the words are coming. It’s never been easy for his older brother to talk about their parents, and it shows on his face.

Rubbing his thumb back and forth across Tadashi’s hand, Hiro squeezes his fingers gently.

The counsellor’s head tilts slightly; a small indication of curiosity. She hasn’t noted anything down as of yet, but she leans forwards as she talks. “And robotics is what you’re studying now, as well- I’m wondering, with the difficulties you had, what inspired you to enter that field?”

“My brother, actually.” Tadashi squeezes his hand when Hiro’s hold goes slack. “I wanted to make sure there was always someone there who...gave his passions the time they deserved. As I got older I started to realise how much I could really do, and I guess- I got a lot more invested.”

“...You never told me that before,” Hiro whispers as two sets of eyes suddenly turn to him. Chewing his lip, he looks at Tadashi with an almost awed expression.

Everything Tadashi’s ever worked for was for _him._ He was the tinkerer when they were small; he was the one who would take their toys apart to find the simple chips and motors inside the ones that moved before putting them back together; making _new things_ from broken parts just to see what would happen, how it would make Tadashi smile if he came over and held whatever it was he’d made over his head like a prize…

He’d done it for him. All of it. Overwhelmed, Hiro butts his forehead gently against Tadashi’s shoulder and stays there, slumped against his arm and so in love with his brother he physically can’t move.

“You were four, knucklehead. You didn’t need to know.” Tadashi lifts his shoulder a little, jostling him as a kiss is pressed to the top of his head. Hiro's not sure how to feel about any of this; the fact that Tadashi’s whole life is based on one of his whims… or the kiss pressed to the top of his head.

Tadashi lifts his head after a moment, breaking the contact after realising that they’re not alone in the room. With an abashed expression, he opens his mouth to apologise- but the doctor simply shakes her head at him, words warm and understanding.

“Hiro must mean a great deal to you.”

“He does, he really does.” Hiro nuzzles closer to Tadashi’s arm, not caring about their audience as he fists his hand in Tadashi’s jacket sleeve.

“Losing your parents so young, I imagine you must have felt very responsible for him.”

Tadashi’s hand twitches in his own. Hiro tightens his hold and he feels his brother squeeze back before he starts talking.

“...Definitely. I mean- it’s not anyone’s fault, and our aunt has always done her best for both of us; but especially during the first few months we were living with her, I remember thinking a lot that she didn’t understand Hiro as much as our parents did.” He smiles ruefully; he’s probably very aware that Hiro’s right there, listening. “I didn’t want to leave him, so I started refusing to go to school. I was very afraid of him getting hurt, or my aunt. It’s part of the reason she took me to see a therapist, at the time. It took a while before I felt like they wouldn’t disappear if I wasn’t watching them.”

“You didn’t want to be alone.”

“No, I didn’t. I still don’t; Hiro went through this period of...reckless behavior after he graduated high school, and I still have nightmares about it.”

“Did Hiro only graduate recently?”

Tadashi chuckles, and Hiro presses his smile into the material of his brother’s shirt. “No; he graduated four years ago. He started college just before he turned fifteen.”

“Oh, well that’s something!” Himora laughs, holding a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry Hiro; I shouldn’t have assumed. Though I must say you are both very intelligent brothers!”

“Its alright. It’s not something you’d expect, right?” Sitting up, Hiro gives Himora a smirk before knocking his shoulder into Tadashi’s. “I used to bot-fight. A lot. For about a year after I graduated I sort of… floated. I hated school because it was so easy, and I didn’t want to get back into education when it felt like a waste of time.”

“So you started fights?” Himora asks with genuine interest. Hiro shrugs as he picks at his nails, looking down at his hands instead of her face; she’s not scolding him, but there’s something about her that reminds him of Aunt Cass, and he couldn’t look at her if they spoke about this either.

“I guess. It was something to do. I got to build bots and Tadashi wasn’t around, y’know…”

“I can imagine it was lonely for you.”

“...I guess.” He hears more than sees the doctor chuckle quietly to herself before she clicks the top of her pen and starts writing in her book, giving them a moment to collect themselves as she makes notes. Hiro sits up straighter, almost trying to read her small words before Tadashi flicks his ear. Rubbing it with a pout, Hiro slouches back into his previous position and for a moment there’s quiet.

Himora finishes up her sentence a couple of moments later, before placing her pen down and fixing Tadashi with a thoughtful look.

“I’d like to talk about last night Tadashi, if you’re okay with that.”

Tadashi straightens as his smile fades.

“..Yeah.”

“I realise it’s a very difficult subject, so please take as much time as you need...but could you tell me about what happened before you made the call to Lifeline?”

He clears his throat, fingers pressing tight against the palm of Hiro’s hand.

“I had an appointment with my psychologist at eight thirty. It’s...the latest I’ve gone to see her before, but last week she’d discussed with me that she felt we were close to a diagnosis, and she’d be able to tell me- so I was putting it off as much as I could.” Tadashi sighs, chewing his lip as his fingers tap a rhythmless pattern against Hiro’s skin. “I was expecting it, but I still tried to put it off….my aunt had been trying to get me to talk to Hiro for weeks, but I still hadn’t gotten round to it... so he went to a party with some friends, and I was a bit shaken up about it.”

He looks to Hiro first and foremost, trying to offer him a smile; it’s clear he’s not trying to pass any blame, and Hiro swallows before looking down at his fingers, unable to meet his brother’s gaze.

“So Hiro wasn’t aware that you’d been seeing anyone?” Himora gives Hiro a concerned look, and Hiroi finds his eyes following the way her pen moves; only briefly, but it’s something.

“I don’t think so, no. Not a great surprise, huh bud..?”

Hiro shakes his head mutely, still not meeting his eyes. Now’s not the time to say it, but if he looks up, he’s sure he words will come tumbling out at rapidfire. _I wish I had._

“..So I decided to take the tram; I wasn’t sure I should be driving, and...it’s depression. Severe depression.” Tadashi’s shaking again; Hiro can feel it through their joined hands as laughs in a flat tone that holds no humor to it. “We went over treatment, how this would affect my work, my family life… I was prepared for depression, I think.”

Hiro’s not; Hiro’s not prepared at all. His shoulders hunch upwards as he clings to Tadashi’s hand like a lifeline. He doesn’t know much about depression, and that scares him. Scares him that he doesn’t know if Tadashi is going to be different now-

But of course that won’t happen; he can tell from the gentle back-and-forth of Tadashi’s thumb across the back of his hand. There’s nothing that could change them. Nothing at all.

“It was the severe part that kept- running around in my head. I kept thinking that it couldn’t really that bad, that maybe I was just fooling myself...the moment I walked out the door I was looking at the traffic and-”

There’s a long pause.

“...It’s been hard. My aunt has enough on her plate, my friends are all starting new jobs, new projects. Hiro’s in his third year, and- they don’t need this. I just kept thinking that it would be so much easier if-- if I wasn’t there.”

“I’m sorry, but can you give us a minute?” Hiro cuts in, refusing to look at Tadashi and instead pleading silently with Himora to agree; she looks between them both for a moment before closing her notebook and placing it in her bag.

“I actually think I’d like a drink; my throat is terribly dry.” She stands, and gives them both a smile. “The coffee machine here is very slow. I might be a while, gentlemen. I’m sorry.”

Hiro gives her a shaky smile as she steps out of the room, the door clicking loudly behind her as Hiro scrambles into Tadashi’s lap, arms going around his neck and squeezing almost painfully tight. He’s shaking again, fingers clumsy as they grip the back of Hiro’s shirt. Tadashi buries his face in his neck and breathes unevenly.

“My life would be _nothing_ without you,” Hiro mutters fiercely into Tadashi’s hair before holding his brother’s face between his palms, thumbs rubbing over his cheeks as their eyes meet. “D’you hear me? Don’t you _ever_ think I would be better off without you, ‘Dashi. _Ever.”_

“I’m sorry...” Tadashi whispers back, his eyes downcast even as his hands come up to close softly around Hiro’s wrists.

“...You have nothing to be sorry for.” Hiro takes a deep breath, willing the frustration and fear out of his body before letting his brother cling to him, Tadashi slowly inching forward and into the warmth of his arms as he almost curls against his own much smaller chest.

His brother feels so small and _breakable,_ and it’s the most frightening thing; Hiro’s brother is big and strong, with powerful shoulders and a sturdiness to him that's never faltered… not this. Not this terrified young man, barely twenty-three and already trying to juggle the weight of the world.

“I love you, Tadashi. You know that, right? I love you so much…”

They get five minutes. Five minutes of Hiro holding his older brother as close as he possibly can, rocking him back and forth and whispering how important he is, how loved into his dark hair. Tadashi stays quiet for the most part, soaking up his words like a sponge as his grip slowly loosens and his breathing doesn’t sound quite so ragged.

“...Tadashi, Hiro? May I come back in?”

Sighing, Hiro tilts Tadashi’s face upwards so he can press a kiss to his forehead before climbing off his brother’s thighs and sitting back down beside him, close enough that their hips touch. He pulls Tadashi’s hand into his own lap and links their fingers together before calling out to Himora. She comes back in with three polystyrene cups filled with coffee, and hands one to each of them before taking back her seat.

“Is everything okay?” She asks, looking back and forth between them with an almost understanding smile.

“Yeah. Just wanted to hug my brother,” Hiro answers truthfully, holding her eyes as her smile grows warmer.

“I think sometimes that a hug from someone we care about is all we need, especially when we’re talking about such unpleasant things.” Adjusting her skirt across her knees, Himora opens her notebook back onto the page she’d been writing on before she looks up and looks to Tadashi.

“Are you ready to continue?”

“Yes; thanks for waiting for us.” Tadashi breathes out slowly, eyes closed for a moment before opening, his mouth pressed into a firm line.

“So you felt that your family and friends would be better off without you.”

“I did. And it’s not that I don’t know they wouldn’t be; that’s part of the reason it’s never been a problem before. I’ve always been able to think of them and know that if nothing else, they needed me.” Himora nods in understanding, jotting down a few more notes as she does so.

“But last night, did it seem like that wasn’t enough?”

“I couldn’t even think of it. I tried to, but it didn’t feel right at all. I tried calling someone and…” He grips Hiro’s hand tight, squeezing it as hard as he can. “That was it. I couldn’t get a hold of them. I was so sure I’d do something to myself, so I called.”

“Even then, it was very important to you to keep yourself safe.” Himora tells him gently. “You attempted contact with a loved one, but when that fell through, you still contacted someone else. That’s incredibly brave of you, Tadashi.”

“...I don’t know about that. I just didn’t want to do anything stupid.”

“I think Hiro would argue otherwise, as would I. I hope neither of you mind, but I just need a few more moments here to gather my thoughts; we’re almost done.” Tadashi nods, and when Himora looks down at her notes, already beginning to write more below them, he leans further into Hiro, murmuring quietly to him.

“You okay, buddy..?”

Hiro moves, butting his head into Tadashi’s gently as he knocks his lip-ring against his teeth; the sound is high and metallic.

“Don’t worry about me; I’m fine, ‘Dashi. What about you? Are you alright?” Even though he wasn’t the one being questioned, Hiro feels almost like he’s been laid bare; chest ripped open to expose his pulsating innards in all their twisted glory… so he can hardly imagine what’s going through his brother’s head.

Tadashi is still pale; paler than his normal golden tone and it’s making Hiro uneasy. How long as he looked like this? Or better yet, how long has it been since Hiro actually slowed down long enough to _look_ at his brother? It’s been too long, since the broken man in front of him is a fucking _stranger,_ and Hiro bites down on his bottom lip to hold back the wounded sound he can feel in the back of his throat. He can’t sit any closer; they’re pressed together, shoulder to hip with hands knotted in his lap. He certainly can’t press their _faces_ together, not with the present company currently in the room with them.

Tadashi doesn’t need that. He doesn’t need Hiro’s grotesque affection fucking him up even further.

“...I’m getting there.” Hiro furrows his brow as his lips draw into a frown, and Tadashi ruffles his hair with a soft chuckle. “Really, I’m alright. It’s been a jarring morning.”

“But…” Hiro starts, his expression worried even as Tadashi tries to laugh it off. Classic Tadashi Hamada, hiding behind a smile. “Tadashi, you-”

_You’ve never been alright. Everything I thought I knew about you was hiding how in pain you’ve really been._

It’s impossible; there’s no way for Hiro to voice his thoughts without sounding like he’s accusing Tadashi of lying to him, and even he can see that was never his brother’s intention. Huffing out a frustrated breath, Hiro knocks his shoulder into Tadashi’s before attempting to cross his arms whilst not letting go of his brother’s hand. There’s an almost silent tousle between them; Hiro pouting even as Tadashi smirks down at him and attempts to pull his hand away.

“Dude, _no-”_ Hiro whines under his breath, clinging with a vice-like grip that actually pulls a full laugh from the older man; it’s deep and _happy,_ and Hiro feels his mouth drop open for a split-second before he schools his face back into one more acceptable.

It’s the first time he’s heard Tadashi laugh like that in _months._

It’s the first time he’s gotten to be _playful_ with Tadashi in months, and it’s a breath of fresh air that comes crashing down when Himora gently clears her throat.

“Thank you for waiting, boys. And thank you again for being so readily willing to talk with me, Tadashi; it’s not an easy feat.” Tadashi’s smile is strained as he gently rests Hiro’s hand in his lap, playing with his fingers in a careful fashion.

“Whatever it takes to get things back on track.”

“Mm, a good approach to it. And really, Tadashi, it’s completely up to you at this point. I’m happy to sign your release papers if you’d prefer to go home.”

Hiro breathes in sharply, fingers twitching in Tadashi’s hold for a moment before he allows them to relax. He feels his brother straighten up, shoulders tight and high around his ears as he swallows nervously.

Hiro wants to look away. This isn’t his decision, and it’s so _easy_ for him to influence how his brother thinks, a skill born from years of wrapping the older man firmly around his little finger. But he can’t, not this time; no matter how badly he wants to tell Tadashi to sign the papers and _come home, please come home ‘Dashi…_

It’s not his place. It’s not his choice. All he can do is keep his hand perfectly still across the top of his brother’s thigh as blunt fingers stroke softly over his palm.

“Alternatively, it may be worth considering opting to voluntarily relocate to our sister mental health retreat. I have absolutely no doubt that you have very strong supports at home,” She nods kindly at him, though her eyes stay on Tadashi. “However with our discussion today, I also gather that perhaps, you have some difficulty seeking that support until you’ve reached points of feeling overwhelmed. That could be dangerous in the future; potentially fatal.”

“I…” Tadashi hesitates. And that hesitation speaks _volumes._ “Would it be possible to have some time to...discuss my options with my family? I’d like to speak with my brother, and my aunt.”

“Of course. Just keep in mind Tadashi; the hospital isn’t allowed to hold you for more than twenty-four hours. I’m sorry to pressure you, but I’ll need to hear back from you in about...two hours?” Tadashi squeezes Hiro’s hand tightly.

“That’s plenty, thank you.”

“I’ll leave you boys to it, then.” Standing, Himora offers her hand, shaking both of theirs in turn before offering her card. “Just in case you need to contact me sooner, my extension is the last four digits of my number. I’ll leave this next to the phone.”

One last nod to both of them, and...she’s gone.

Leaving a very thick silence in her wake; one that Tadashi chooses to break.

“...Well she wasn’t too bad, huh?”

Hiro attempts to speak, but his voice is a pathetic croak that is more air than sound, so he just nods.

It’s very rare that Hiro feels like he’s speechless, but Himora’s proposed treatment has left him well and truly mute. All he can do is breathe, slow and deep to stop himself shaking as his brother continues to play with his fingers.

Hiro can feel Tadashi looking at him, can see his brother out of the corner of his eye, too blurred to probably see his expression, but he can guess; open, calm. Almost eager in how he waits for Hiro’s opinion, and this time… Hiro can’t give one. He _can’t._

“What-” He tries, his voice as dry and brittle as a snapping twig. “What do you want to do?”

“I dunno, buddy. I think…” Tadashi pauses, brow furrowing. He leans forwards, looking up into Hiro’s face before exhaling slowly. He squeezes Hiro’s hand, slowly drawing him into his arms, hugging him tightly as Hiro clutches at his shirt. “It’s okay, Hiro. It’s going to be okay…”

Hiro can’t say anything past the small, breathless sobs against his brother’s collarbone. Of course Tadashi had noticed; he notices _everything,_ and somehow manages to be the most selfless person on the face of the planet as he once again makes Hiro the centre of everything.

Hiro goes, lord help him but he goes willingly, falling in between his brother’s knees as Tadashi rocks him back and forth, back to being the strong and unmovable force Hiro’s always known. He’s murmuring into Hiro’s ear, soft words of comfort that Hiro shouldn’t need but he clings to them like they’re a lifeline. He needs that connection to his brother.

He’s scared he’s about to lose him.

It would be so easy to ask him to stay. So easy. Tadashi wouldn’t fight him; he’d nod and smile, and then politely ask Dr. Masuoka to sign his release papers so he can go home. Hiro would have his brother back, broken and scarred, but within reach.

Hiro knows that Tadashi wouldn’t stay that way for long.

He has influence. He has _control._ It’s like ripping his own heart out of his chest, but he raises his head up enough to press his nose against Tadashi’s throat before talking quietly into the space between them, low and heartbroken;

“I think you should go, Tadashi.”

Tadashi’s hands slow against his back, placating circles coming to a stop as he takes in Hiro’s quiet announcement. He sniffs against his brother’s shoulder, and Hiro can imagine the look on his own face right now; eyes red rimmed, lips drawn into a miserable expression.

“...I think I should, too.” Tadashi admits slowly. He rests his chin on Hiro’s head, arms tightening their hold about his small frame.

“...I don’t want you to, though.” His voice is small and soft, and wet with tears.

“Oh buddy, I know…” Tadashi hushes, leaning back to look down at his face. “But hey; what’s our most important rule?”

Hiro lifts his arm up to wipe his eyes on the sleeve of his hoody. Tadashi’s watching him with such _warmth…_

“We stick together,” he answers softly, their eyes meeting before he looks away.

“That’s right.” Leaning back, Tadashi pulls a few tissues from the box on the bedside table and gently takes hold of Hiro’s chin so he can clean up his face. Tadashi pats at his face for a few moment before he _tsks_ a little and changes tactics; he licks the tip of his thumb before wiping under Hiro’s eyes like he’s trying to get chocolate off a much younger, chubbier face.

“I’ll be gone...a week. Maybe two. And you know exactly where I’ll be coming back to.” He’s lying; Hiro can tell by the tilt of his brother’s mouth. “You’ll have to take care of Baymax while I’m gone, hm? Jog his processors every few days or so. Make sure Aunt Cass doesn’t eat everything in the cafe.”

Hiro nods, eyes half-lidded as Tadashi tries to dry his face with soft touches; Hiro presses his cheek into his brother’s palm as the older man talks, his voice low and soothing to Hiro’s frayed nerves. Two weeks… he could survive two weeks without his brother, right?

He’s been doing it on and off for the last couple of months. This time feels different, though, because Tadashi is being forcibly removed from his life.

“I...I will,” Hiro answers softly. Tadashi’s fingers still against his face, and they look at each-other for a long moment before Hiro’s pulled forward, curling against his brother’s chest before slotting his face back against Tadashi’s throat.

“Can I have your phone for a sec, bud? I wanna call Aunt Cass.” Nodding, Hiro hands over the small device before closing his eyes. It’s easier to focus on Tadashi’s heartbeat when he can’t see anything. Easier to pretend he can’t hear the quiet words Tadashi is muttering into the phone… or the shushing noises he makes to calm their tearful aunt.

Hiro stays quiet and still through it all, fingers curled in the neck of his brother’s t-shirt even as Tadashi’s arms squeeze around him as he hangs up the call and puts the phone aside.

There’s nothing left to say. Only a couple short hours to imprint the memory of his brother’s heat into his mind so it can’t be lost. To commit the beat of his heart next to his own to keep him close, and to let the sound of Tadashi’s breathing be a lullaby to get him through the next fourteen nights without him.

Hiro doesn’t need anything to put his attention into, right now. Tadashi encourages him to move until they’re both fully on the bed, leaning back against the headboard with Hiro’s head on his brother's chest as he runs his fingers through his messy hair.

When Hiro was younger...they’d sprawl out on his bed for hours, and just talk.

Or rather, Hiro would talk; his mind could go a mile a minute, and so could his mouth. On any topic, from the most mundane to the most serious, to the downright silly. There aren’t any words right now; there’s no end to it all. No tickle fight to break the mood or emphasize it, no Tadashi ruffling his hair as he puffs his cheeks out in a disgruntled manner.

Eventually, Himora knocks on the door. Tadashi blinks up at her for a moment, breaking away from looking at Hiro’s face. He yawns before taking a glance out the window, noting with some surprise that the afternoon is already casting long shadows across the room. He hadn’t realised it was so late…

“Tadashi, Hiro? I thought it would nice if we walked down together; your aunt’s waiting for us, as well.”

“Alright; we’ll be two seconds.” With a nod, the therapist disappears into the hall and Tadashi pulls Hiro closer. “We gotta get moving, Hiro… ready?”

“No,” Hiro whispers, eyes clenched shut for a moment as he clings to his brother, arms tight around his body and refusing to loosen. _I can’t do it. I was wrong, I can’t lose you I **can’t-**_

“Hey… look at me.” Hiro pulls away just enough to tilt his head back, eyes wide and frightened even as he feels them watering up. Tadashi’s smiling down at him, his own eyes shining as he presses their foreheads together. “It’s going to be alright. I promise.”

Hiro feels a tear slip down his cheek before he nods minutely, sighing shakily against his brother’s face before edging himself towards the edge of the mattress. Tadashi’s not far behind, and they both reach for each other the second they’re standing, hands immediately linked as Tadashi takes the lead and takes them out into the corridor.

Himora smiles sympathetically as she gestures for Tadashi to walk. He does, his back straight despite the way Hiro can feel his hand trembling in his own. He feels a light touch, and Himora is wordlessly pressing tissues into his palm. He gives the woman a smile before swiping roughly at his cheeks.

Cass is waiting at the ward doors, and Hiro allows Tadashi to let go and rush ahead, straight into their _mother’s_ arms as she clings to her oldest, both hands running through his hair as she tries to shush him past her own tears. Tadashi’s shoulders are shaking, and Hiro takes a moment to let his aunt say her own goodbyes.

Time is slipping away quicker than he can hold it; Tadashi’s hand is once again in his whilst Cass takes his other, and they walk down towards the elevators in a chain of three. Hiro has to let his tears fall now, and he tries to bite his lip against them with varying success.

He blinks, and they’re in the atrium. Himora’s pulling Tadashi aside and pointing to where he needs to go before shaking his hand and wishing him well. His brother goes, fingers almost _vibrating_ in Hiro’s grip and he _can’t let his brother do this, he can’t-_

But it’s too late; two medical techs are stood with clipboards, checking down a list as Tadashi shakily gives his name. He holds out his wrist where his hospital ID is stark white against his arm before he’s gestured forwards. Hiro makes to follow before he’s stopped.

“Sorry, little guy. No civilians into the car-park; you’re at risk of being hit by one of our reversing ambos,” the guy says, holding his hand out to Hiro.

“But I-” Hiro starts, eyes wide because there’s a sudden _barrier_ between them, Tadashi is in a place he can’t follow and it’s too much, **_I can’t-_**

“Baby, wait,” Aunt Cass calls tearfully, pushing past the techs and into her nephews arms, her own tight around Tadashi’s neck before she’s rifling around in her purse, sniffing harshly against tears before pulling out Tadashi’s cap. “You... you don’t look right without it, sweetie,” she finishes quietly, letting him take it from her limp fingers before being pulled back into a hug. She steps away, and Tadashi’s eyes find his.

This is it.

 

* * *

 

They’ll probably take it away from him. Tadashi doesn’t have the heart to tell her that, and the cap resting on his head is such an intense comfort when his heart is already pounding in his throat, sick to his stomach with panic.

He wants to change his mind. He wants to turn around and tell them all no, actually, he just wants to go home. Forget all about it. Bury it deep where no one can find it, make sure his aunt and brother never worry about it again.

And Hiro looks at him. Tears streaking down his face, just as panicked. Two long strides and he’s gathering him back into his arms, holding as tight as he can whilst he buries his face in Hiro’s shoulder.

“Be safe, okay?” His voice is hoarse; a limitless imagination for all the things that could go wrong while he’s gone on a whirling repeat in his mind. “Don’t be reckless, buddy. Just-- make sure you’re there when I come home.”

“Always, _always,_ I’m not goin’ anywhere, I promise, just come back to me-”

“Always.” He has to go. He can feel, more than see, the impatience from the officers waiting on them, and he breaks away from Hiro reluctantly, hesitating. More words on the tip of his tongue even as his fingers trace over the face he adores so much once more-

But they’ll have to wait. They can wait until he’s back, until he’s sorted himself out. Slipping his hand around to cup the back of Hiro's neck, Tadashi brings him forward enough to press his lips to his forehead. Hiro's hands fist in his jacket, and for a moment he thinks neither of them will let go... until Hiro's stepping back and away, holding Tadashi's eyes even though it's killing them both.

Adjusting his cap, Tadashi turns and walks, keeping his hands lax when all he wants to do is clench them into fists.

Two weeks. He can’t guarantee that to himself, and unlike Hiro, he can’t lie to himself about it.

The very best he can do is not look back. Not when he gets to the vehicle, not when he takes a seat inside. The doors close behind him and the engine comes to light a minute later, and only as the car begins to move does he chance looking out the window. Looking back.

The vehicle takes him away from the two figures standing alone at the hospital bay entrance far quicker than he’d like.

 

* * *

 

_“San Fransokyo Lifeline, how may we help you?”_

_The voice that answers his call is feminine; low and calm, which is the absolute opposite of what he’s feeling right now. He doesn’t spare her pleasantries; every car that flashes by makes him flinch; every car that flashes by would just be so easy, and he’s never been more afraid of himself._

_“I-I think I’m going to kill myself. I really need help.”_

_“Okay. So you’re thinking of killing yourself. Where are you right now?”_

_“Corner of West Avenue and...Kimora Place. There’s just- I keep thinking about walking in front of cars, or off the bridge, and I need help, please. Please, God, I don’t want to leave him.”_

_“You won’t leave him. I want you to do me a big favor, okay? I want you to move away from the road; are there any shops open nearby? Somewhere you can be away from the traffic.” He nods blindly to himself, and shifts under the doorway of one of the buildings around him. It’s not- he’s still outside. There’s shops- got to be, but does he even dare to move. “Take some deep breathes for me; can I get your name?”_

_“T-Tadashi. Tadashi Hamada.”_

_“I’m Natasha. I’m really glad you called tonight, Tadashi; I can hear that you’re feeling very afraid right now, and you’re not in a safe place. I’m wondering if you’d like me to get you some help.”_

_“Yes. Yes, I just- I can’t. Do this.”_

_“You gave me a call, Tadashi, and that says a lot. You’re very brave for doing this, and I’m going to get someone there for you really soon. Do you think you can stay on the line with me until then?”_

_Tadashi huffs out something that might have been laughter, but his body is shaking so hard, it comes out--warped. Wrong and dangerous, and for all his nodding, she needs an actual, verbal answer to know that he’s really here. “Yes. Yes, I can do that. Thank you.”_

_“It sounds like there’s a lot overwhelming you right now, but you mentioned that you didn’t want to kill yourself. You didn’t want to do that to him.” Natasha keeps talking to him; the city still loud around him, but he keeps his concentration on his phone, on her voice. On the way it directs him to thinking about Hiro; his brother. His precious brother who...he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He’d never recover if Tadashi killed himself, and even if they never talk again he still can’t- “He sounds like he must be very important to you.”_

_“He is.” Tadashi whispers back. “He really is.”_

_“Is he a partner? A family member?”_

_“My little brother. Hiro, he’s...four years younger.”_

_“Sounds like Hiro’s very lucky to have a brother who cares about him this much, hm?” Her tone is soft, encouraging. And if he remembers whatever vague psychology books he’s read, hours and hours of upgrading Baymax so he could handle things like mental health and loss, people in crisis, then this is the part where Natasha reminds him what he has to live for._

 

_The one thing his has most to live for._

_“...I love him so much.”_

 

* * *

 

Reader: ANNIE, BIRD, I WISH I COULD CHAT TO YOU BOTH AT THE SAME TIME MORE AND MORE SPECIFICALLY ABOUT HIDASHI AND YOUR FICS AND GET UPDATES AND-

**AND FEAR NOT FOR WE HAVE THE ANSWER.**

Wanna follow both of us? Wanna see updates on Hot Mess and our solo works? Wanna send in some more love, be it just to chat further, send in drabbles or fanart- to both of us at the same time? You can follow our [joint tumblr for all of this](http://foundinmeadows.tumblr.com/).

One last little thing because I’m sure there’ll be a few people curious! We stuck to the conditions of hospital admission for mental health based on my own understandings from Australian processes. This means that because of Tadashi’s diagnosis, he did have the choice to voluntarily elect to receive further help...essentially if he hadn’t of had that prior diagnosis though, because he wasn’t a danger to others or himself, he would’ve been let go within 24 hours.

I really do recommend knowing your own rights in your area about voluntary admission to hospital, and what processes are involved. It can be the difference between getting decisions made based on what your own needs are, and what others decide for you.

 


	8. You Always Believed In Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can’t keep my phone on me because I’m sharing a room with some people, so… I’ll probably call about this time tomorrow, okay? There’s a roster for the phones; I’ll only get a half hour.”
> 
>  
> 
> _That’s it?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Bird: Well that was a chapter. The longest chapter we’ve ever done, exceeding chapter six by….three thousandish words? 19 thousand words in a chapter; isn’t that something?
> 
> Annie: But my darling Bird, how badly did we need every single word? What you are about to read is one of our darling protagonists growing from a child to a man in the space of fourteen days. 
> 
> Or is it both protags… we’ll never tell. >:3
> 
> NOTE: Both authors are smokers; both have attempted to quit with varying success. Smoking is a bad habit that you shouldn’t pick up… but have respect for people who want to stop. S’not easy. Hiro’s reactions are based on our own, so be nice.

 

[You Always Believed In Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lbSOLBMUvIE)

* * *

 

**And I’ve been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you,**

**Each one a line or two;**

**“I’m fine baby, how are you?”**

**Well I would send them but I know that it’s just not enough.**

**My words were cold and flat...**

**And you deserve more than that.**

**\- Michael Buble (Home)**

* * *

 

 

Hiro doesn’t remember much of the ride home with Aunt Cass; he thinks she was holding him. He thinks they got a cab back.

He _knows_ he was crying.

Aunt Cass had wanted to talk, hanging around after she’d unlocked their front door. She had shifted from foot-to-foot, purse handle twisted in her hands before Hiro had shaken his head wordlessly and slowly makes his way up the stairs to his room.

 _Their_ room. It seems far too big when he knows that Tadashi will not be coming home for the foreseeable future. Hiro wavers for a moment, about to head for his own bed before his feet carry him over to his brothers as he throws himself across the sheets. They were slept in not two nights ago; the scent of Tadashi’s shampoo still clings to the pillow.

Hiro feels his eyes fill with tears, the sudden _loss_ hitting him like an oncoming train.

Tadashi is gone, and he doesn’t know when he’s coming back.

The evening stretches on as he wraps himself in the bedsheets, eventually flipping the tear stained pillow over. There’s almost a sense there that he’s being ridiculous; acting like a small child who’s just lost his best friend, but he keeps his eyes closed and revisits the memory of Tadashi holding onto him tightly, of his words. _Keep safe. Keep safe._

How many hours are wasted on that are completely lost to him, but Hiro knows he doesn’t sleep. There’s an ache in his chest that throbs in time with each breath, stealing any sense of slumber. Aside from the cars outside, everything is quiet. Aunt Cass must have closed up the cafe early, because now and again, he hears her shifting about; playing in the kitchen, the quiet murmuring of the television. None of it is all that interesting-

Until the phone rings, and Hiro bolts upright in spite of himself. It’s dark outside, so a few hours have to have passed, but that doesn’t mean…

“Hiro! Sweetie, Tadashi’s on the phone!”

The quilt flutters to the ground as Hiro throws it from his body and scrambles off the mattress, falling on his knee before clawing himself back to standing; _Tadashi, Tadashi’s on the phone **Tadashi-**_

Hiro trips over Mochi as he vaults over the stair bannister, almost knocks out his crooked teeth on the dining room table and sends Cass’s laundry-basket flying but none of it _matters_ because she’s holding out the phone to him, her eyes watering even though she’s smiling-

“Ta-Tadashi?” Hiro pants into the phone, holding it firmly against his face. His hands are shaking and there’s a tickle behind his eyes as he squeezes the phone between his palms. “Tadashi, are you there?”

There’s a rush of static from the other side of the phone as Tadashi sighs into the receiver, voice quiet. “Hey Hiro. I’m here.”

“I, um. Tadashi, I…” Aunt Cass cautiously puts her hand on his shoulder. Hiro looks at her with tear-filled eyes before leaning into her body. She presses a kiss to his temple and holds him tightly as she strokes her hand up and down his arm. She’s strong, stronger than he is and Hiro needs her.

“Are- are you okay? What’s happening? Tadashi… god, _Tadashi…”_

“Hey, hey,” Tadashi’s voice takes on a soothing note, as if he’s attempting to quell Hiro’s anxieties over the phone. “I’m okay, buddy. I got here about twenty minutes ago; can’t keep my phone on me because I’m sharing a room with some people, so… I’ll probably call about this time tomorrow, okay? There’s a roster for the phones; I’ll only get a half hour.”

_That’s it?_

“...S’not enough,” Hiro murmurs as he cradles the phone with both hands, almost as if he could crawl through it to be at Tadashi’s side.

“It’s only for a week or two, remember? We’ll have to make do.” There’s a pause, and another sigh. “I don’t have that much time tonight; there’s some things they want to walk me through, but I wanted-- I wanted to call first. Just let you know I’m alright...and I’m thinking of you. You and Aunt Cass doing okay?”

“We didn’t get back all that long ago…”

“Hiro, you must’ve got home at least four hours ago.”

“Oh. I guess I must’ve fallen asleep…” He’s lying, but he doesn’t want to worry his brother more than he has to. Unsure of what to say, Hiro looks to his aunt as if for help. She nods encouragingly, her arms tightening around his body. He’s thankful for her; he feels like he’s going to fly apart without her there to ground him.

“D’you… d’you wanna say goodnight to Aunt Cass?” he says in a small voice after a moment… despite being more than happy just to listen to Tadashi breathe.

“I said goodnight to her already, but give her a big hug for me, okay? And Hiro-” Another pause. There’s some noise in the background, an exchanging of words that doesn’t quite make it through despite how hard Hiro’s listening, phone digging into his cheek. “If you want to stay in my bed...you can, okay? Whatever makes you most comfortable-”

“I love you,” Hiro blurts out, tears falling down his cheeks. _Don’t go. Please. I’m not ready, please don’t go-_ “I love you, Tadashi, I love you so much, come home, please come home-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay; I love you too. I love you too, Hiro.” Tadashi whispers. “I’m coming home soon; really soon, so you be safe for me, and take care of Aunt Cass. I gotta go in a minute, okay? But I’ll be calling tomorrow, and the next day. It won’t even feel like I’ve been gone at all, hm?”

“It-” Hiro starts, going easily into Cass’s arms as she pulls him into a hug, shushing softly against his hair. _It will; I’ll know every second you’re not here, I **need** you here-_

“I’m gonna miss you,” Hiro whimpers into the receiver.

“...I’m gonna miss you too, buddy. Talk to you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

The silence sits all too heavily, like Tadashi’s already gone. Hiro opens his mouth to murmur his name, heart leaping into his throat _because he can’t just leave it at that-_

“Night, Hiro. Miss you.”

“I miss you, too...I love you…” Hiro hears Tadashi take in a sharp breath before the line goes dead, the dull sound of the dial-tone loud in his ears. The phone drops from his limp fingers and bounces on the kitchen floor as Hiro hiccups wetly.

“A-Aunt Cass…”

His hiccups turn into shuddering sobs as he buries his face into his aunt’s shoulder. His fingers dig into her shoulder-blades as she manages to take his small weight and lowers them slowly to the floor. It’s almost a mirror image of the last time he broke down in front of their washing machine… only this time, Cass is crying into his hair as well. They cling to each-other desperately, Cass’s soft shushes lost into his shaggy hair and to her own shaky breathing.

“What… what am I gonna _do?”_ Hiro whimpers as Aunt Cass rubs his back. “What are _we_ … I can’t do this without him…”

“Oh baby, I know it’s hard.” She knows all too well, if the thickness in her voice is any indication. Her fingers run through his hair slowly, combing black locks out of his face. She leans over to smile at him, cheeks red and blotchy. “We just have to be strong for a little while; just a little while. Take care of ourselves until Tadashi’s ready to come home.”

Gentle fingers run over his cheeks, lifting his head up as Aunt Cass forces some enthusiasm into her voice. “You know what sounds nice right now? Snuggling up on the couch. I’ll get that really comfy blanket out of the cupboard and we’ll watch terrible programming for a few hours; lord knows you have too many braincells, young man. Good plan?”

"...Good plan," Hiro says quietly into Cass's woolen cardigan, his hands slowly loosening in her clothes. She doesn't rush him; just continues the slow movement of her hand in his hair.

Wiping his eyes on the back of his wrist, Hiro gives Aunt Cass a weak smile and lets her help him up before placing her arm around his shoulders and guiding him to the sofa. A kiss to his forehead is her parting gift before she pads over to their cupboard, pulling down the blanket as promised before sitting herself down and throwing it over them both.

Hiro flops down across her lap, drawing a small huff of laughter before she begins to play with his hair once more.

The sound of the TV fades in and out and Hiro totters the line between awake and asleep; he blinks slowly, sniffling a little every now and then. Cass just pets him, over his head and shoulders. It's enough to keep him here in the moment, with her, and he finds himself drifting off.

At some point, the phone rings again. For a moment, it jolts him awake; but Tadashi said he wouldn’t get much chance to call, and the disappointment follows quickly. Aunt Cass answers it quietly, hand stilling in his hair for a moment.

“Hello? Fred; it’s good to hear from you. No-- no, he’s been asleep for a while now...I think it’s better to let him. He’s been taking all of this hard…”

“...That’s a fantastic idea. I know I could use--”

“-Enough space upstairs--”

“...Hiro?”

“Hiro, sweetie.” Blearily opening his eyes, Hiro stares at the television; it’s off. He can’t remember hearing it go off. Aunt Cass kisses his forehead, gently steering him into sitting up, tucking the blanket about him as he shivers. It’s cold, too…

“Time for bed, my little man. You wanna head up now?”

“...In a minute.” He feels uncomfortably warm; almost sickly from the impromptu nap; throat parched and tongue feeling like it’s been glued to the top of his mouth. Crashing upstairs sounds great...but he needs water.

Blanket wrapped about his shoulders, he shuffles into the kitchen, filling a glass from the tap and murmuring a quiet goodnight at his aunt before she disappears into her bedroom, door still cracked open from years of habit, back when he and Tadashi needed that quick access, and he was a little too small to reach the door handle. Fingers gently tapping against the ceramic...Hiro considers how less appealing crashing upstairs is, now that he’s awake enough to remember that Tadashi won’t be up there.

Just him.

Still, it's a little unfair for him to pootle around in their living room and kitchen when Aunt Cass is trying to sleep; she's probably been awake for eighteen or so hours. She deserves a chance at uninterrupted sleep, if she can manage it.

Hiro briefly considers the garage, considers losing himself in his projects for a few hours until he's exhausted enough to drop at his own desk-

_Keep safe._

\-- but that's not an attractive idea either. Tadashi's down there, too.

Sighing softly to himself, Hiro folds the blanket loosely over the back of the sofa and heads upstairs, each step slow and heavy until he reaches his bedroom. In the light of day, it was easy for Hiro to pretend that Tadashi was just out somewhere; running an errand, helping Aunt Cass downstairs, poking around in the kitchen...

That illusion is so much harder to maintain when it's dark, and Tadashi is usually up here in bed or at his computer when night falls.

The cup shakes from the trembling in his hands, and Hiro quickly takes a long sip of water that wets his chin when it overflows before placing it on his desk. He flicks on his lamp; too dark, too many shadowy corners that could hide his brother, and he can't give himself that hopefulness when he wakes up confused and dazed in the night.

He knows it'll happen.

Padding softly over to Tadashi's bed, Hiro straightens the sheets before sliding back under them. They're cool and soft, and the combination of his own fruity shampoo combined with the more masculine scent of his brother’s would usually bring him pleasure. This time, it just makes the empty space inside him feel bigger.

"...This sucks," Hiro says quietly to himself as he rubs his cheek firmly into Tadashi's pillow. There's nothing to do except sleep...

He _could_ smoke, if he wanted. He's got a box in the bottom drawer of his desk. Throwing back the blankets, he heads back over to his side of the room and pulls the drawer open, riffling through papers and blueprints to find the small box hidden at the bottom.

He'll go in the roof garden; it's nice out there at night. He can see the city lights and no-one will disturb him. He can usually see Tadashi through the window during his cigarette breaks; curled on his side with the pillow wedged at a funny angle beneath his head, fingers curled into the fabric--

The box is empty. Hiro blinks at it for a moment, almost wishing a nicotine-laced paper stick will appear as if by magic. It doesn't.

"Fucking dammit..."

The empty packet sails across the room, landing-- wherever. Like he cares. Hiro sniffs, feeling like a put-out child as he slouches back to bed; feeling too sickly to cry, and too aware of Aunt Cass attempting to sleep to stomp.

At very best, he can wrap himself back in Tadashi’s scent. Blankets up to his ears as he buries his face in the pillow, inhaling slowly, pretending that he’s there because he isn’t feeling the best. Just Tadashi being _Tadashi;_ keeping him close so he can keep a better eye on him.

No. He’s there because Tadashi _isn’t there._ Hasn’t even been a few minutes, and he’s already trying to write it all off again…

The silence is getting to him. It’s barely ever quiet in their room; there’s always a computer on. There’s always someone shuffling about, or soft, barely there snores coming from the other side of the partition. An audible presence to the room that gives it life; makes the large space warm.

Now it just feels larger than ever.

Hiro stays where he is for as long as possible; face buried in the pillow until it’s too stifling, until his shoulders twinge from how awkwardly he’s positioned himself. So he turns over, glancing at the clock before throwing his hands over his eyes, and trying again. Sleep. Just, go to sleep.

Five minutes later and it’s not much better.

He wonders if Tadashi is sleeping at all; surrounded by strangers in a small bunk in an unknown place without him...

His hands clench in the sheets before he sits up, arms crossed over his knees as Hiro breathes slowly. _Easy Hamada..._

Blinking rapidly, Hiro looks over Tadashi's walls desperately for something he can use to ground himself; a picture of them tacked to the bookcase, Tadashi's old textbooks stacked neatly, his past attempts at sports, the surfboard nailed to the ceiling--

Baymax.

_Baymax._

Hiro pauses for a moment, his whole body freezing as he stares at the unassuming red box. His brothers robot. His final project. The one thing outside of Hiro that Tadashi is most proud of.

Hiro can hear the tremble in his voice when he calls out;

"Ow."

A green light flickers to life almost immediately, a calm tone indicating that anyone close to the station should step back before the top unfolds and Baymax inflates-- not in full; capable of registering the tight space about him. He shuffles to the end of the bed before finishing the intake of air, peering down at Hiro in an almost inquisitive manner before waving a hand in greeting.

“Hello, Hiro. It is very late; my scans indicate that you are experiencing some, emotional distress.”  Baymax leans forward, carefully adjusting his body to appear lower to the ground. Less threatening. “Is something, troubling you?”

"H-hey buddy," Hiro says shakily, attempting to give the robot a smile; its a pale, watery thing that slides off his face. "I'm, um. I'm not too good."

Grabbing Tadashi's pillow, Hiro hugs it to his chest as he crawls to the edge of the mattress to get closer to his brothers precious project. His toes graze the floor as he swings his legs over the mattress. His breath trembles in his chest as Baymax's large rubber hand brushes through his hair. It’s an awkward motion; Baymax still doesn’t have the flexibility in his fingers to replicate more intricate methods of human touch, but the robot does his best to reassure, all the same.

“There there, it will be alright.” Hiro sniffs in response, tired and frazzled. It doesn’t feel alright; less so when his only source of comfort; his last resort, is activating a nursebot at whatever hour of the morning it was, slowly slumping forwards to rest his forehead against Baymax’s soft stomach.

The petting turns into a hug, a soft light revealing that Baymax is warming himself. The change of temperature is...really pleasant. One day he’s going to have to ask Tadashi how he coded that one in.

“I would like to help; is there anything I could do to assist you, Hiro?”

He feels tears prickle his eyes as he slumps more firmly against Baymax's body. His eyes hurt; so many tears from the last couple days, and he hates it.

"...Tadashi. Baymax, can you show me my brother?"

“I will need to step back. Please wait one moment.” Patting the top of his head, Baymax shuffles backwards, hitting the chest of drawers behind him and wobbling almost dangerously for a moment before the projector lights up a small square on his stomach, image flickering to life. The window is partially visible over a mop of hair not messy enough to be his own; his brother must have been working on some modifications as Baymax watched, and though the crown of Tadashi’s head isn’t quite what he had in mind, there’s several moments of peaceful silence only punctuated by the sound of a chair creaking, a tool being placed down on a metal surface.

“Tadashi!”

The word is punctuated by the door slamming offscreen, and Tadashi pushes back his chair quickly, smiling even as he opens his arms. And Hiro runs into them; a much smaller Hiro- he forgets how tiny he was sometimes- who’s pulled onto Tadashi’s lap and held close even as he wraps his arms about his brother’s neck, seemingly hanging on for dear life.

They stay like that for several moments until Tadashi leans back, carefully adjusting him on his lap, an arm about his waist to keep him from falling. “First day over already? How’d it go?”

Had he known, even at that age, how deep his feelings for Tadashi went? The last thing he wants to do at the moment is look at himself rather than the smile on his brother's face... but he's curious.

Maybe he's always been in love with Tadashi.

Maybe he just never knew it.

“Introductions, overviews of the coursework, tours of the labs- you know. The usual orientation jazz.” The Hiro on Baymax’s stomach waves his hand dismissively as he talks, shooting a grin robot’s way as he looks up into the camera. “Hey, buddy.”

“Hello, Hiro. You are well today.”

“I’m not too bad. You haven’t been sitting here since I left, have you? Did you eat?” Tadashi winces, making a bit of a face, and his younger counterpart scowls at his reaction.

“I...ate something. Here. I’m fine; Baymax is great company.” He soothes, chuckling as Hiro purses his lips. The smile fades slightly, concern overriding his expression and tone as his hand comes up to Hiro’s cheek, examining him a little more critically. “You sure today was okay, bro? I know it’s...been a fun couple of weeks.”

“Yeah, well…” Hiro picks at the fluff on his cardigan, not quite meeting his eyes. “It was fine. Busy...but tomorrow won’t be so bad; maybe we can have lunch together..?”

“Yeah; I’d like that, buddy.”  Tadashi sighs, pulling him in for a hug and resting his chin on his shoulder. He couldn’t see it at the time, but Baymax has no problems picking up the strain in his expression; the way he tenses, holding onto his little brother just a little bit tighter. “I missed you too. We’ll get to sort out some space for you in here, closer to the end of semester.”

"Baymax? D'you have anything where 'Dashi was... happy?" Hiro asks after a moment, drinking in his brother's face even as the robot nods his consent and a new video starts. Leaning forward, Hiro's hand comes up to trace over Tadashi's smiling face.

It's been far too long since he's seen him that happy.

It’s the first time Baymax had worked correctly. Hiro’s seen it before, but even now he can still feel himself smiling at his brother’s enthusiasm-- still feel the way his stomach swoops when Tadashi mentions his eagerness to show him his invention. He’s so bright and full of life; somehow almost tens of years younger, in some ways. No weight on his shoulders, except-

There’d already been plenty of weights by that point, hadn’t there?

Hiro suspects that there’s a part of him that just doesn’t want to be happy, right now. Seeing Tadashi like this; younger and carefree, sometimes with him, sometimes with their friends, or even completely alone...his eyes drink in the way he smiles as his mind pulls the videos apart, reminding him in a steady loop, over and over.

_Tadashi still wasn’t doing well, here._

It’s so tempting to give up on the happier moments and order Baymax to look for when Tadashi was under duress. Let whatever part of his mind that wanted to be bitter pick those apart, instead of instances that were meant to be treasured.

“Hiro? It is, after 3am; if you would like, I can continue playing videos whilst you try and get some rest.”

“Huh? Oh, um. Yeah, Baymax. That sounds good, buddy.”

There’s a long pause as Baymax’s head swivels from side to side, and his eyes blink twice before he focuses back on Hiro.

“Hiro, we are alone. Where is Tadashi?”

“He’s… he’s not here, buddy,” Hiro chokes out, hugging his arms tightly around the pillow as his breathing becomes more ragged.

“When will he return?” Baymax’s tone is pleasant, innocent… and it hurts to have to tell the robot that his creator is away.

“I… I don’t know,” Hiro gasps out as he presses his face into Tadashi’s pillow, shoulders shaking as he hides his sobs into the fabric. He feels Baymax approach and place his arms back around him, his body glowing with warmth. It’s comforting, but it’s not Tadashi.

It’s not _enough._

“--A-- ittle different from them, buddy.” Tadashi’s voice cuts in after a moment, a prerecorded version of Baymax’s responding promptly. Hiro blinks as he pulls back, cuffing tears off his cheeks. His brother is looking up at Baymax, his face serious as he chews his lip around his words.

“I cannot be different; Baymax models will share the same design.”

“Different in protocol, not in design. I’ve got someone I need you to take care of.” A pause. “My little brother is your primary patient. No matter what, you check him first when activated. He has a habit of getting into trouble...and I can’t keep an eye on him all the time. If anything happens like last month--”

A humorless chuckle.

“It’s not working in a hospital, buddy, but it’s the most important job at all. I’m trusting you with him, alright?”

“I understand, Tadashi. Hiro Hamada is my primary patient.”

Hiro swallows around the lump in his throat before pressing his face against Baymax’s stomach. He cries himself exhausted, his eyes gummy and blurred as he closes them against Tadashi’s face from the screen on Baymax’s stomach.

He shouldn’t be Primary. He _never_ should’ve been Primary.

“T’dashi…” Hiro murmurs mournfully into Baymax’s round stomach before sleep finally takes him; light, troubled and not at all restful.

It’s not even been one full day yet.

\-----

“Not for nothin’, little man, but you look like _shit.”_

Hiro’s surprised to find his kitchen table full when he finally descends the stairs to the flat the following morning, drowning in one of Tadashi’s shirts and the cuffs of a pair of his pants trailing on the ground. Fred smiles at him warmly over a raised cup of coffee, and Honey Lemon waves as she’s unable to give a verbal greeting due to her mouth being full of croissant.

 ****“...What are you all doing here?” Hiro manages to say after a moment of stunned silence. Gogo rolls her eyes from the kitchen, a spatula in her hand as she flips pancakes.

“Figured you could do with the company,” she says gruffly as she brings over a towering stack of golden pancakes and places them on the table before kicking a chair out and gesturing to it. “Eat.”

He takes his seat almost grudgingly, picking at the food as everyone talks around him. Now and again Honey attempts to pull him into conversation, or Fred will suggest something- or Wasabi will ask him if he needs anything, or--

It’s exhausting. Hiro’s happy to have an excuse to leave the table, muttering out something about not sleeping too well and trying to catch some shut eye before making his escape; back upstairs and away from all the clutter. Just being around them makes him feel jittery, though...he can’t deny that Aunt Cass could use the help downstairs.

And that’s-- fine. Fine; so long as they didn’t come up here looking to include him in it.

 

\-----

Hiro’s sitting on Tadashi’s bed, his knee bouncing up and down with some sort of high-strung energy that’s driving him insane when he hears the phone ring downstairs. It’s like he receives an electric shock from the sound; he leaps up, his heart hammering erratically in his chest before he bolts for his bedroom door, throwing it open and barrelling down the stairs.

“I got it, I got it I got it!” Hiro shouts, pushing past Fred and he races for the phone; everyone’s stood around staring at the device, but no-one goes forward to answer it. Hiro couldn’t be more grateful as he skids to a stop and picks up the receiver and jams it to his ear.

“Hello?” he says breathlessly, clinging to the phone as he sinks slowly to the floor, legs bent in front of him as he brings his thumb up to his mouth and chews anxiously on his nail. “Tadashi?”

“Hiro.” Tadashi answers just as breathlessly, breathing shaky. “Hey. Hi. It’s me.”

“‘Dashi? What’s wrong?” Hiro asks, biting harder at his fingernails. Everyone in the room freezes, and five sets of eyes look at him with varying levels of concern. Hiro ignores them all. “Talk to me-”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, I just-” Tadashi’s voice waivers, growing steadily more husky as he continues talking-- cracking at the end. “I miss you so much, buddy. So, so much. It’s- it’s way too early to say this isn’t working, but god, I want to come home right now.”

“I...I miss you too. It’s like…” _It’s like I can’t breathe._ Hiro feels himself welling up again, more tears that he just doesn’t want to cry anymore but he can’t help it; Tadashi’s hurting and he can’t help. He can’t fix it or make it better and it’s _agonising._

He sees Honey rush towards him, arms open and eyes sympathetic, but he shakes his head frantically as he pushes himself back to his feet. He can’t have her touch him; he won’t be able to be strong for his brother if he’s smothered by her kindness. It will break him.

Head lowered, he hurries for Cass’s bedroom, closing the door with a sharp snap before sitting on the edge of the bed and sighing shakily into the phone. He can hear Tadashi crying.

“Hey… I’m here, Tadashi. I’m here… I love you so much. I miss you, I miss you…” His tears are coming faster and thicker, and there’s a moment of silence before his own sobs echo back to his brother. “I want you to come home, I want-”

“I’m coming home as soon as I can, okay? Soon as I can, Hiro, I promise-- I hate being away.” Tadashi sniffs, pausing between his words for several long moments. “But--I’m here now, so I need to make the best of this.”

“I can’t… I can’t _sleep_ without you,” Hiro whispers into the phone, eyes closing as tears tumble down his face. He laughs at himself, harsh and low. “All those nights I stayed away from you by being a fucking _asshole_ … I need you, Tadashi, I do, I-”

He’s not helping the situation, and Hiro cuts himself off as he brushes impatiently at his eyes. “I’m proud of you,” he says instead, trying to force a note of steel into his shaking tone. “I’m so _so_ proud of you, Tadashi…”

“It’s okay.” Tadashi murmurs. He sounds exhausted; calm only because he doesn’t have the energy to be more upset. “You’re allowed to be upset too; I know. Just a little longer; okay? Did you get up to anything, today?”

“N-Not really… the guys are here, but I… I didn’t really feel like company.” Hiro sniffs. “I just wanted to see you…”

“They are..? Send my love, I’ll- probably talk to them later this week.” The words are distracted, more of a passing mention than anything substantial. “Hanging out might be fun, yeah? It could help take up some time.”

“I guess…” Hiro murmurs, picking at his aunt’s bedspread as he listens to Tadashi breathe. They don’t end up saying much more; Tadashi’s not being the most forthcoming with his own day, which Hiro finds more worrying than he’d care to admit. They simply try and absorb as much of each-other as they can through the limited contact available. So many words are said in hushed tones.

 ****_I love you. I love you too. You can do this. I know I can. It’s going to be alright._

Twenty minutes sail past quicker than Hiro ever thought they could. Tadashi’s been quiet for a little while, and Hiro clears his throat gently to get his brother’s attention.

“Did...did you want to talk to Aunt Cass before you have to go?”

“Ah, yeah, buddy. I’d like that. And...I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? I love you.”

“I...I love you too, ‘Dashi. So much. I’m… I’m not giving up on you, okay? You can do this. I know you can.”

“...Thanks, Hiro. Hang in there for me.”

“I will.” _Forever, if I have to._ “I love you…”

He has to take the phone away from his face and hold it at arm’s length like it’s a poisonous spider to stop himself from crying down the phone for his brother, to stop himself from _begging_ Tadashi to come home. He’s shaking as he presses the phone into his aunt’s hand before heading for the kitchen sink, planting his hands on the counter and breathing deeply for a moment.

His agitation must be palatable as none of his friends attempt to approach him; they tiptoe around him like he’s an active bomb, and as he reaches up to take a glass from the top shelf in order to pour himself a drink and as the cup slips from his hands, he can almost hear them all take in a collective breath.

The sound of the glass shattering on the floor rings through the apartment, and there’s a moment of silence before the inevitable storm hits; Hiro reaches up and grabs another glass before hurling at the wall with a ragged cry; he’s not enough of a danger that he throws towards any of his friends, but Honey cries out in shock and Gogo immediately bristles at the sound of her distress.

“Hey!” she shouts, advancing before Fred holds her back by the arm. Hiro ignores her and heads for the stairs. He’s gotta get out, get out of this house that reminds him so much of his brother and he’s not there, he’s not _home--_

Hiro storms into his garage, the door banging against the wall as he pushes it open. He doesn’t make it far enough to the couch; there’s a trailing wire from a welder that Tadashi had been using before he’d ended up in hospital and Hiro goes flying when it catches over the end of his shoe. Pain laces up his hands. Probably grazed again, he thinks dazedly as he rolls onto his back and pushes himself into sitting. It’s not enough to really hurt, but everything _sucks_ and he just-

He’s sobbing into his arms when he hears someone enter the room. The door closes quietly behind them, and he looks up to see Wasabi sitting next to him, blurry vision barely able to make him out at all.

“Just me, little man. Don’t worry about it.” Wasabi’s tone is low and placating as he places a hand carefully upon his shoulder, and when Hiro doesn’t react past burying his face back into his arms, he pulls him a little closer, offering him a shoulder to cry on that Hiro- needs.

He can’t resist falling into it, turning his face into Wasabi’s sweater as the man rubs his back; not offering the platitude of careful hums and soothing words that Tadashi would, but there all the same. He sits there on the ground without a single complaint, letting Hiro sniff thickly against his clothing- Wasabi hates germs. Hates dirt; but he doesn’t even flinch.

No one else follows him. It’s just Wasabi for however long it takes for his heaving sobs to die down, slowly going lax in the hold until eventually Hiro’s just focusing on breathing; shallow breaths through his mouth because his nose is blocked up.

“Here.” A handkerchief is pushed into his hand; glass of water offered as the next step in putting himself back together.

“Thanks,” Hiro says thickly as he dries his eyes and tries to sniff as daintily as he can in order not to make Wasabi uncomfortable. “I’ll… I’ll buy you a new one, dude…”

“Not necessary, Hiro,” Wasabi says in a low voice, his large hand still rubbing circles across Hiro’s shoulders and upper back. “You could talk to us, instead? We want to help you, y’know?”

“I know, Wasabi… it’s just. It’s so _hard.”_ Hiro gives the man a wane smile before giving him back his space and letting Wasabi push himself to his feet before fishing out a small bottle of hand sanitiser from his pocket to clean his hands with.

Hiro’s fingers itch as they twist the fabric of Wasabi’s handkerchief into a thick rope. His tongue feels metallic, like he’s been sucking on pennies... and he knows how he can get rid of it.

“I can’t imagine, little man. But you’ll get through this. We’re all here, and Tadashi’ll be home before you know it.” Hiro appreciates the man’s attempts to comfort him, and holds out his fist with a hopeful look. Wasabi smiles broadly before tapping his own large knuckles against Hiro’s smaller ones before leading the way back up the stairs, chattering innately about nothing. Hiro dips in with his own comments, and when they get back upstairs he gives Honey a quick hug in apology before settling down the evening.

Hiro manages to hide his shaking hands from everyone. He hides the way his temper snaps and how he keeps making to stand up to go outside before remembering that he doesn’t do that anymore.

It helps, somewhat, to be surrounded by everyone. The lounge room isn’t made for so many people, and he winds up on the floor between Fred and Wasabi whilst the girls take up the couch. Half the time he isn’t even sure whose hand is in his hair, but the gentle strokes help him refrain from trying to stand too often, attempting to keep his concentration on the marathon of movies.

It helps, until everyone turns in for the night. He’s in Tadashi’s bed, and through the partition, he can hear Fred snoring. No hand in his hair. No movie.

Just the scent of his brother, pointedly fainter than it was the night before, and a silent robot he can’t call on without waking everyone up.

He lasts until 1am before slipping on his shoes and sneaking out of the house, years of practice making his exit through the front door as silent as possible. Either he’s going to explode, or he’s going to have a smoke.

Pulling his hood up, Hiro shoves his hands into his pockets before setting off down the road; there’s a store about a block away that’s open twenty-four hours, and they have a nicotine stand. He walks quickly and quietly, keeping his head down as he pushes his way into the store and pulls out his wallet.

A quick flash of his ID and with his wallet considerably lighter, Hiro heads back home, a cigarette box held tightly in his hand and a brand new yellow lighter rattling around in his pocket.

He’s still going to quit. He’ll stop as soon as Tadashi gets home, because it upsets his brother and he’s not going to let that happen anymore, he’s going to do _everything_ in his power to make Tadashi happy…

There’s someone waiting on the stoop for him when he walks around to the back of the cafe, and he freezes. It’s too dark to make out their face, and Hiro takes an uncertain step backwards.

“W-who-” He starts, but a hand reaches out and flicks on the overhead light that’s installed over his backdoor. Hiro blinks in the bright light. It’s Gogo, her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket and a displeased look on her face. She’s not chewing any gum, which sets off all sorts of warning signals in Hiro’s head and he isn’t sure _why._

She’s looking at his hand and- _shit._ His fingers tighten slightly around the carton of cigarettes, and Hiro isn’t sure what’s about to happen.

Silently, she holds out her hand. Gesturing to the cigarette box he’s still holding like a lifeline as Hiro purses his lips and wavers- she’s not his _mother;_ it’s not like he’s buying them illegally. If he wants to have one, then he’s got a right to it…

Reluctantly, he places them in her hand, feeling all the worse as she takes them away, playing with the plastic and tugging the box open, pulling out two. He half imagines the way she’ll snap them between her fingers; every single one, just to ensure that he’s not able to salvage them-

“Lighter.”

“I...what?” Hiro watches, slack-jawed as Gogo slots one of the cigarettes in her mouth and hands him the other. She waves her hand impatiently as she puts the box of cigarettes into her pocket and sits down on the back step, squinting up at Hiro as the boy continues to stare at her gormlessly.

“Your lighter. Give it to me.” Hiro takes it out and hands it over, his movements slightly fumbled as Gogo cups the end of the cigarette and lights it, blowing out a long column of smoke before handing the lighter back and gesturing to the spot at her side before falling into silence, the smoking stick held between the fingers of her left hand.

Hiro watches her suspiciously for a moment before he slowly lowers himself into sitting and takes the first drag from his own smoke after he’s lit it; the hit of nicotine makes his head rush, and it’s more of a satisfied sigh as he takes his time, savouring the taste of ash on his tongue as they smoke in silence.

GoGo, as it turns out, knows how to blow smoke rings. They come out perfectly every time; quick, light rings of white that idle in the air and slowly dissipate, and watching the way the smoke rises and curls out of his own lips seems sloppy in comparison.

He has no idea how to blow smoke rings. At the clubs he’s been to, there’s been a few who have; a party trick that everyone enjoys, something for people to compete over. It takes practice to get them going….

The question is on the tip of his tongue as Hiro glances at GoGo; _since when?_ But it isn’t asked. For five minutes they sit in silence, making their own unique patterns in the air, putting the butts out in one of the potted plants by the door before GoGo stands, pulling the carton out of her pocket and sliding two more cigarettes out. She holds them loosely in her left hand as her right is raised over her shoulder, arching back and flinging them up over the fence, to God knows where.

The remaining cigarettes are held out to him.

“Last one?”

For a moment, Hiro can’t answer her. All he can see is Gogo throwing the new pack of cigarettes into the night to become lost, over and over in his mind like a tape stuck on repeat, although the more times he watches it, the more he realises is that it’s not Gogo he’s seeing. It’s Tadashi.

_Just for tonight, Hiro. Just for tonight._

“...Last one,” he manages to croak out, taking the cigarette from her and lighting it with shaking hands. They smoke in silence once more, Gogo calm and still beside him. Hiro’s mind is not nearly as serene as it was previously; there are too many memories filling his head, his eyes blurred with sights long since past, his skin tingling from the ghosts of Tadashi’s touch...

 ****He wants him home. Hiro’s never wanted anything more.

Gogo finishes before he does, and she reaches across him to put the end of her cigarette into the plant pot before she stands. Hiro hurries to finish his own cigarette and he buries the end in the dirt before holding open the back-door for Gogo.

“I’ll, um. I’ll see you in the morning?” he whispers as he locks up behind them, giving the woman a sheepish look. Gogo huffs, and punches him gently on the upper arm before turning and heading back upstairs.

That could’ve been a lot worse, Hiro thinks to himself as he tip-toes back upstairs to his room and buries himself in Tadashi’s blankets, his nerves much more settled. He can feel himself dropping off, and Hiro sighs quietly as he rubs his cheek into the pillow.

His sleep is dreamless, for once.

 

\-----

“Hiro, get up.” GoGo’s shakes him roughly back to reality, and Hiro groans in protest, rolling over in an attempt to avoid the abuse. She’s too persistent for that, and inevitably, his eyes open, immediately falling on the clock beside the bed table.

It’s 6am. He’s barely slept four hours, if that. Most vexing of all is that she _knows it._

“What do you want?” Hiro whines at her; attempting to plead with his eyes. Don’t do him over now. Let him _sleep._

“C’mon Hamada. Get your shoes on.” She’s dressed in tracksuit pants and a tight top; yellow. Breathable fabric…

No.

Surely not.

“You’re kidding.” Gogo gives him a smile that is nothing but the purest of evil before she pulls his blankets clean off him and lets them flutter to the floor. Hiro curls in on himself, his whining rising in volume before Gogo grabs his ankle and pulls at him.

“Hiro. Up.” It takes another ten minutes before Hiro’s dressed in loose shorts and a baggy t-shirt. Gogo ushers him down the stairs and watches him as he drinks a tall glass of orange juice before she grabs his arm and pulls him out the back door.

It’s _freezing_ , and Hiro’s breath fogs in front of him in the early October morning before Gogo sets off without him, her knees pumping as she heads for the park. Hiro’s tempted to turn around and head back into the house; hell, he might even _lock her out_ , but the thought of what she would do to him if he did that is enough to spur him into a half-assed jog, his feet dragging on the ground as he lops after her.

Hiro spots her dark head waiting for him at the entrance of the park at the end of the street, and he grumbles the entire way up to her before coming to a stop. They’ve gone less than two-hundred metres from the cafe and Hiro’s already panting, a mixture of smoker’s lungs and just plain laziness.

“...Can we go home now?” he pants, hands on his knees as he breathes in the morning’s frigid air. At least the street lights are on, since the glow of the horizon isn’t nearly enough to make out anything more than vague shapes.

“Nope. Woman up, Hamada. Once around the pond, c’mon.” With that, Gogo sets off once more, her step as light as Hiro’s is heavy as the boy pushes his body into following his friend.

This is punishment for smoking last night. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if _Tadashi_ put her up to this and is secretly laughing to himself… wherever he is. This is torture, plain and simple, and by the time Hiro finally catches up to Gogo (who doesn’t even look out of breath,) he’s red-faced and sweaty, his long bangs sticking to his forehead and his t-shirt clinging to his back.

“I...I _hate_ you,” he pants as he kneels in the frosty grass, glaring up at Gogo who looks nothing less than smug as she watches him.

“...We’re only half-way, Hiro. Still gotta get back.”

She’s trying to kill him, pure and simple. He spits quiet, breathless curses at her back as he’s left behind again, picking up his pace in an attempt to get this over with as fast as possible. He’d walk, if not for the fact that he’s afraid she’d get him to do it all over again, shoes scuffing against the pathway as his side burns- it’s not even that long a way. To the park, round the pond, back again.

He’s an inventor, not a marathon sprinter. The days where he’d find himself streaking wildly through the city in an attempt to ditch some goons he’d pissed off after clearing out the competition in a bot fight are long gone; he hasn’t ran anywhere in _years._ Or at least...not when he can help it.

Running to the hospital, he’d been so afraid he wouldn’t make it in time.

Grimacing, Hiro pushes himself forwards; a small burst of speed in the last hundred metres before home. GoGo’s slouched in the doorway, watching his approach, and he glowers at her, opening his mouth to spit breathless vitriol-

“Here.” Unceremoniously, she shoves a bottle of water into his chest. He staggers, grumbling to himself as he uncaps it and takes a few large gulps, chest rising and falling sharply as his heart pounds somewhere in the vicinity of his throat. She throws something else at him, the tiny packet hitting him square in the forehead before she smirks, letting herself back inside. “Might want to shower. Fred’s good at hogging all the hot water.”

“I swear you’re not human.” Hiro shoots after her, scowling at the box on the ground. Nicobate.

Nicotine gum. She bought him a packet of nicotine gum.

“How- Why did you-” Hiro stares at Gogo, mouth opening and closing as she blows a bubble. It snaps loudly before she turns on her heel and heads back into the house. Looking back at the packet in his hand, Hiro notices that it’s already open, and there’s a single piece missing. A grin slowly forms on his face, and Hiro unwraps a piece into his mouth before dragging himself up the stairs.

_Smart, Gogo. Very smart._

__

\-----

Hiro’s on his third stick of gum by the time Tadashi calls that evening. His head immediately snaps up at the sound of phone ringing, and Fred happily pauses the movie before gesturing for Hiro to take the call. Mouthing his thanks with a quick smile, Hiro leaps over the back of the couch and snatches up the phone before heading towards his aunt’s room.

“Hello?” Hiro asks as he flops down across his aunt’s mattress, keeping the door slightly open so that the other’s can hear the call; he’s been hogging Tadashi the last couple days. It’s about time he started to share his brother’s precious time. “That you, ‘Dashi?”

“Hey, buddy.” Tadashi murmurs. His response is almost instant, but he sounds exhausted; a little quieter than he was last night.

“You sound tired,” Hiro comments as he curls onto his side, eyes closed so he can focus on the sound of his brother’s voice. “Are you okay? How are things going? Are you sleeping? Eating? Have you-”

“One at a time, c’mon.” Laughter filters in from the receiver, and Hiro smiles widely. He still sounds tired, but hearing Tadashi laugh- that’s something to soak in. Something to hold onto for as long as possible. “I’m alright. Things are- going, I suppose. Group therapy today, my first one on one tomorrow. I slept...well, I slept. And the food’s okay. Anything else, inquisitor?”

“Well, do you want to talk about group?” Hiro says softly, hoping his words are soothing enough through the phone; he wants to hold Tadashi, comfort him with his touch rather than his words, but… there will be time for that later. “And what about the centre? Is it nice? And are you even still in S’okyo? I don’t… I don’t even know where you _are.”_

“Ah, well...group is..” Tadashi pauses, making a noncommittal sound in his throat. “It’s eye opening. It’s good to talk with other people experiencing something similar, but...at the same time some of their stories are- rough. Much rougher than mine.”

There’s a long silence. Hiro rolls onto his stomach, frowning somewhat as he mulls the statement over in his mind. So...what? Tadashi felt like- they had it worse, or something? He wasn’t there to compare himself to other people; just to get better.

“The centre is great though. It’s on the other side of Sacramento; about two hours out, bud.”

“...Two hours isn’t that far.” He perks up a little, propping himself on his elbows. “If I left early enough… are you allowed visitors? Could I…”

“...I really wish you could, Hiro.” Tadashi sighs back, voice growing a little quieter as he shifts on the other end of the phone. “At the moment, I’m not allowed visitors. Usually they’d allow them after a few weeks, but...that’s for long term patients. I’ll probably be home before I get visitation rights.”

“Oh.” Hiro deflates once more, pouting even though he knows Tadashi can’t see it. “Well, I’d rather you come home than hang around there until I can come to you.” He pauses for a moment, sighing softly into the receiver. “I miss you. The sooner you come home, the happier I’ll be. Do you feel like you’re getting better? I mean, there’s nothing wrong with you, there’s _not,_ I just… I want you to come home.”

His voice gets smaller and smaller until Hiro’s whispering into the phone, his fingers tight around the hard plastic.

“I want to come home too.” Tadashi admits. “The best part of being here is knowing I’ll get to come back to you...I will really soon, okay? I think this is helping, it just needs a little more time.”

Hiro grumbles softly under his breath, drawing a quiet huff of laughter from his brother before they lapse into a comfortable silence. As much as Hiro would like to spend the next twenty minutes basking in his brother’s presence, he can’t. He’s not the only one who’s worried about him, or who cares.

“The gang is here, by the way. Do you want to talk to them before you say goodnight to Aunt Cass?” Hiro asks, half-hoping that Tadashi doesn’t feel like batting any more questions for tonight so he can keep him for himself.

“I think I should say hi, yeah.” Tadashi sounds a little reluctant himself, exhaling into the receiver and causing a short burst of static. “We’ll talk longer tomorrow, okay? You having fun with the guys?”

“I dunno if you could call it _fun,”_ Hiro grumbles, and Tadashi makes a curious noise before Hiro shakes his head, grinning. “I’ll tell you tomorrow. It’ll give you something to look forward to. I’ll pass you over to Fred, okay? I love you, Tadashi.” Hiro’s grin grows wider, more mischievous despite the sadness that tinges it. “You be good, now.”

Tadashi laughs, cooing back in an almost babyish tone. “I love you too, you brat. Don’t forget to eat your vegetables, brush your teeth. Flossing is good for you.”

“I take back my ‘I love you,’ you ass,” Hiro chuckles back, hoisting himself up off the bed and heading for the living room. “Just because _some of us_ needed braces…”

“Technically you needed them too, bucky.”

“Oh my god, fucking _stay_ there.” Tadashi laughs again, louder than before and Hiro can’t help but smile, bringing his hand up to his face to hide it. He sounds… good. Better than he has in a while and Hiro misses him fiercely for a moment before waving his hand to Fred and pointing to the phone.

His friend practically lights up, his smile taking up his entire face before he trots over, making grabby hands.

“Tadashi? I didn’t mean it. I love you. Here’s Fred, okay?”

“I love you too. And really, do eat your vegetables.” Hiro scoffs at him before handing the phone over, Fred immediately holding it to his ear, voice bright and delighted.

“Yo! Tadashi, man, how’s things?” He listens intently for a moment before backing up over to the couch and fumbling with the phone, the rest of the gang collecting around him as Tadashi’s placed on speaker.

“-getting there. Aunt Cass said you guys were staying over for a while; stealing my junk already?”

“At least you know how to keep it clean, buddy.”

“Wasabi? Hey guys; am I on speaker?”

Hiro listens for a moment, watching the way Honey’s face splits into a wide, relieved smile. GoGo leans on the back of the couch, adding in a few comments here and there whilst Tadashi struggles to keep up with all their questions.

They’re glowing; a little family unit of their own, reunited with someone they love just as much as he does. And Hiro slowly moves away to let them enjoy that, stepping around the kitchen counter and almost automatically falling into his aunt’s open arms.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetie.” Aunt Cass kisses his forehead, voice soft and warm. “Tadashi will be too, knowing you’re sharing him around.”

“...Just make sure you get to talk to him, too,” Hiro says quietly as he snuggles closer to his aunt, letting her pet his hair and half-listening to Fred laughing boisterously before they all join in. Somewhere in the middle, Hiro can just about make out sound of his brother’s own joy, tinny and quiet from the other end of a phone line, but _there._

When it’s time for Aunt Cass to have a quick word, and she hangs up the phone soon after...for once he feels...almost okay with it.

He has a lot to tell Tadashi tomorrow.

\-----

It’s another six-am start the next day; Hiro wakes up to Gogo’s smug face staring down at him, and it’s not long before they’re out in the cold autumn morning and heading for the park. It’s just as difficult as it was the morning before, and Hiro’s limping by the time he gets back.

Gogo slaps him on the shoulder, hands him some more gum and a bottle of water before disappearing into the house, letting Hiro cool down on the back step before he toes his shoes off and heads up to the bathroom.

He showers quickly, rubbing shampoo into his hair and ensuring he’s washed the grossness off his body before bundling his running clothes under his arm and heading up to his room. Fred and Wasabi are still fast asleep, so Hiro dumps his dirty things in his hamper and pulls open his drawers quietly, looking for a clean shirt and pair of jeans.

He stares at the contents for a long minute. There’s _nothing_ he can wear.

All of the jeans are a size too small; one has faux leather panels stitched in and lined with silver studs. They’re his favourites.

They’re _disgusting._ The shirts are no better; all black, all too small, all bought with the intended purpose of getting him noticed. Hiro really doesn’t want to be noticed anymore.

Closing the drawer with a sharp click, he tiptoes over to Tadashi’s wardrobe and carefully cracks it open. Thick cardigans, woolen jumpers, thick cable sweaters… all in muted colours and all comfortable.

Surely, Tadashi wouldn’t mind if he borrowed one. Pulling a thick grey jumper down off one of the hangers, Hiro throws it onto the bed before grabbing one of his own plain t-shirts, boxers and socks. He’ll have to borrow a pair of Tadashi’s jeans, too.

He’s got nothing worth salvaging.

Dressed in his brother’s clothes, Hiro heads back downstairs to share a coffee with Gogo and his aunt. As soon as Fred and Wasabi are up, he’ll be back, and he won’t be alone. He’ll be armed with bin-bags because everything has to _go._

For whatever reason, Fred decides to follow. And at first he couldn’t be any less helpful, throwing himself back on the bed and flicking through one of the few comics Tadashi owns whilst Hiro begins to ravage his wardrobe, attacking the worst of it at it’s core. Anything with studs or diamonettes? Gone. Zippers gain a more than critical eye, particularly on shirts. Many of the vests he owns aren’t loose enough to actually wear a shirt under-

“Damn. Where the heck did this thing come from?” Hiro looks to the side, where Fred holds up a leather shirt with a mixture of amazement and slight disgust.

“Amina?” He offers sheepishly, and Fred immediately makes a face, stuffing it into a bag.

“Crunch; add it to the heap.” He announces, and it’s not the only reference Hiro doesn’t exactly get that day.

By the end his wardrobe is a sad affair of three tops and one pair of jeans hanging listlessly on their own, and a few jackets that Fred had convinced him weren’t all that bad. They cart the bags downstairs, chucking them into the dumpster behind the cafe; an act that leaves Hiro feeling both victorious and exhausted.

A quick dinner which is predominantly dinosaur shaped sandwiches, and he curls up on the couch, phone held loosely between his fingers. Last night he’d finally had the initiative to code the number of the hospital into the phone; he doesn’t have to question if it’s Tadashi or not when it rings, heart leaping when his name flashes across the screen.

“Hey, Tadashi.” Hiro yawns around his brother’s name, pulling the sleeves of Tadashi’s jumper down over his hands and cushioning his head on his arm. He turns his nose into the soft wool; it smells like Tadashi’s cologne, even after a day of wearing it. It’s more comforting than he can put into words. “How’s it going?”

“Hey buddy; you sound like you just woke up. Big day?”

“Mmm,” Hiro almost purrs into the phone, stretching his legs and curling his toes in their fluffy socks. “You caught me napping; I threw out a lot of stuff today. A lot of my clothes and some shoes that I don’t like anymore. There wasn’t much left, so I’ve borrowed some stuff. Hope that’s okay.”

“I’m afraid for my wardrobe, but that’s fine.” Tadashi concedes, and Hiro imagines that he can hear him smiling. “Little late for spring cleaning, buddy, but it’s good that you’ve been busy. You hang out with anyone today?”

“Fred, mainly. He helped me trash most of my stuff. I went for a run with Gogo this morning, too, but that’s about it. Wasabi had to check out for the day and Honey was missing her little brother and sister, so it’s been pretty quiet, y’know?”

“Running?” This time, he swears he can hear Tadashi raising his brow. “Doesn’t sound all that quiet to me. What about your friends? Amina, those-  other guys. Been keeping in touch?”

“Yes, smartmouth, running. Six-am starts, she’s trying to kill me, I’m sure of it.” Tadashi laughs a little, going quiet before repeating his question, and Hiro hums thoughtfully. If he’s honest, he hasn’t actually _thought_ of Amina all week.

“I think she texted me a couple days ago, but that’s about it. The rest of my lab have been caught up in papers and stuff.”

“So you’ve… you’ve not gone out?” Tadashi sounds funny, and Hiro brings his brother’s jumper sleeve up to his nose.

“Nah. I don’t… it doesn’t seem as important anymore, you know?” Hiro’s words are quiet and soft, and he hears Tadashi’s breath catch down the phone. “I… might have thrown out all the clothes I used to wear, so I couldn’t go if I wanted to. Which I don’t, by the way. But… yeah. I won’t be going anymore.”

“...I can’t say I’m not happy to hear that, honestly.” Tadashi murmurs back. “Not that- I don’t want you to have fun. But- I’m glad.”

Hiro grins a little into the cuff of Tadashi’s sweater, curling tighter on his side as he listens to Tadashi breathe. There’s a quiet _Mreow_ from near his ankles, and Hiro watches as Mochi claws his way up onto the couch and fits his chubby body into the small space against Hiro’s front. Hiro pets the cat between the ears, making Mochi purr. “Can you hear him?” Hiro asks, ducking his head a little so Mochi’s closer to the phone.

“I can. Hey there, baby boy. Is he missing me?”

Hiro’s stomach turns. It’s been a long time since he’s heard that word from Tadashi’s lips, even though it’s not meant for him. “I dunno. He caught a mouse yesterday, so I think he’s making the most of the time you’re not here to scold him for actually _being_ a cat. You know he needs the exercise.”

“He needs the exercise, sure...but that doesn’t mean he can go catching poor mice just to stuff himself with. You hear that, fluffball? No more mice.”

Mochi just continues purring, as if he knows that Tadashi’s words aren’t really all that much of a threat. The subject changes as Tadashi continues, words making Hiro bolt upright, much to the cat’s displeasure. “So...I had my one on one today. Good news is that she thinks I’ll be good to go in a week.”

“You serious?! You’re serious, right? Oh my god, that’s _awesome,_ ‘Dashi! Hey, Aunt Cass!” Hiro yells over the back of the couch, twisting his body to find her. There’s the sound of something falling to the floor before she comes out of her bedroom, reading glasses on the end of her nose.

“Yes? What is it sweetie? You gave me a heart attack!”

“Tadashi’s coming home next week!” Hiro lets his words sink in before his aunt squeals loudly and hurries over to the couch, sitting down next to him and wrapping her arm around his shoulders. She plucks the phone from his fingers before holding it up to her face, her voice breathless.

“Tadashi? Baby, is that true?” Hiro can’t hear Tadashi’s answer, but his aunt’s eyes fill with tears as she laughs happily. Hiro leans into her side and puts his head on her shoulder; he knows exactly how she feels.

 

\-----

When he’s dragged out of bed the next morning, Hiro doesn’t feel as cheerful. It’s withdrawal rather than any attempts from GoGo on his life, he supposes grudgingly, but when his head is already pounding, the last thing he wants to be doing is jogging through ankle high grass, morning dew soaking into his socks and leaving him shivering violently as he struggles to keep up with her pace.

Another pack of gum. Another bottle of water. The cool liquid coupled with a steaming hot shower does a little bit to help, but it’s not enough to improve his mood. He feels...on edge. Twitchy.

Tadashi will be home in a week. He’s already gone two days, so there’s no point to buying a pack of cigarettes from the store and secreting them away from GoGo’s keen eye. Restless pacing leads him into the garage, and Hiro takes the minimum time required to consider their space before jogging back upstairs to grab some cleaning supplies and throwing himself into the momentous task of gutting their workspace, taking his aggression out on some stains of...who fucking _knows_ that have long since caked themselves to the surface of his workbench.

He’s got his headphones firmly over his ears, playing the angriest music in his playlist when he feels someone tap his shoulder and he leaps out of his damn skin. Hiro shrieks as he spins on his heel and backpedals away from _whoever_ it is that’s touching him, his gum falling from his mouth and landing on the floor with a small plop.

Amina looks back at him, her face amused and her hand on her hip as she watches him. Scowling, Hiro bends down and picks up the gumball before throwing it into his trash-can and breaking out a brand new piece. The minty taste does nothing to hide the shitty chemical flavour, and he grumbles as he pulls his headphones down. He misses the taste of cigarettes today, and it’s making him touchy.

“Haven’t seen you around much this week, Hiro,” Amina says as she looks around the garage; Hiro’s certain it’s the first time she’s been in here, and he grunts as he throws the rag he was using to clean his desk onto the couch before propping his hip against the rough surface.

“Yeah, well. I’ve had a lot of family stuff going on. I meant to call in and let SFIT know, but I kinda forgot…”

“Hey, no worries,” she cuts in, patting his shoulder before pushing her hand into her pocket and pulling out-

“You want one?” she offers, popping the box open and offering him a cigarette, and Hiro feels his mouth run dry. They’re _right there,_ and it’s not her fault; it’s not like he told her he was quitting. It’s a full box, too. She wouldn’t miss just one…

“...No. Thanks, but no. I’m… I’m trying to quit.” Hiro smiles sheepishly at her before pushing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, nails digging into his palms as he watches her shrug before stepping out of the garage and lighting up. To her credit, she tries to stand down-wind and doesn’t ask him to come closer so they can continue their chat, but the sharp scent of cigarette smoke wafts into the garage and Hiro can’t help the way his breathing deepens as he wavers dangerously.

“So, when _are_ you coming back, rep?” Amina half-shouts, tapping ash onto the floor. “I’m beginning to miss your sass, little man. We need to catch up, too. D’you fancy meeting at around eight tonight? I think it’s happy hour on Thursday’s-”

“I can’t,” Hiro says shortly, watching the bob of her cigarette instead of Amina’s face. “I have… I have plans around that time.” There’s nothing on earth that will keep him away from Tadashi’s phone calls, but it’s not something he particularly wants to share right now; his nerves are on edge and Amina’s _smoking right in front of his garage_ and he suddenly feels like he needs to get away.

“S’all good. Maybe sometime this weekend then- or some other time.” Amina adds, seemingly taking note of his strained expression. She flicks the cigarette to the ground, crushing it under her heels before moving in closer, and the scent of ash and nicotine hangs off her in a heavy cloud that’s making his head throb. There’s a large part of him that’s kicking himself for not accepting that cigarette while he had the chance. “So...family stuff. You want me to see if I can grab some work from the professors for you? You’ve missed a few things, this week.”

“I, um.” Hiro starts, his hands clenched tight around his desk; Amina’s cigarette smell is seeping into his clothes, into _Tadashi’s clothes,_ covering up his brother’s scent and replacing it with something that his brother detests and Hiro doesn’t like it. “I think I’m gonna talk to the professors about it. I might need some time off.”

“You’re kidding? Hiro, you can’t do that!” Amina exclaims, her manicured nails reaching out to touch him, but Hiro ducks away from her fingers. She looks a little shocked, and maybe a little hurt, but she presses on. “It’s so close to the end of the year, you can’t break off now! What if they make you repeat the whole year!”

“Then they make me repeat the whole year,” Hiro says shortly, picking up the rag and turning his back to his friend; he scrubs roughly at the stained and burnt table-top, attempting to clean away a scorch mark; he can’t look at Amina right now.

“But Hiro-”

“Ami, this is _my_ choice. I have to do this. Some things are more important than school-”

“Is this about your brother?” Hiro stops dead, his whole body freezing at Amina’s words. He turns slowly to face her, his face paling as his heart beats frantically in his chest; his friend looks… worried. She’s biting her lip and twisting her hands in front of her, and looks for all the world like she’d rather be anywhere else right now than alone with Hiro in his garage.

“What do you mean?” he asks quietly. Amina recoils slightly, and it’s only after he’s said the words does Hiro hear the heavy tone to his own voice.

“...I know you love him, Hiro.” Hiro’s breathing catches, and he swears his heart stops for a moment before the girl continues, her voice coming faster and faster as she struggles to get the words out; “I mean, I have an older brother, too. But I don’t… I don’t think that Tadashi would want you to drop out of school for _him,_ you know?”

“I- This isn’t about ‘Dashi, it’s not, I-” Hiro starts, his words stumbling over themselves as he fights to get the sentence right. She doesn’t know.

She couldn’t _possibly_ know.

“I think… I think you need to think about what you’re doing. That’s all.” Amina comes closer, figuratively backing Hiro into a corner. He can feel a headache coming on, and it’s almost painful to see the level of concern on his friend’s face. “And make sure this is what you _really_ want. Sometimes the people we love… they don’t want what’s best for us. And I think Tadashi-”

“Stop. Just. Just stop.” Hiro bites out, and Amina’s mouth closes with a sharp click as her teeth snap together. “You don’t know him. You don’t- He would _never-_ Tadashi loves me, he does, I-”

He needs to stop. Hiro can feel himself panicking, he can _hear_ his voice breaking and it’s so telling, and Amina’s not stupid, what if she-

“Hiro I know he does, I just want to make sure you don’t feel… pressured by him. In any way. About _anything-”_

“Get out. Please, Amina. Just go. I can’t… I can’t talk about this with you.”

Amina stares at him, expression troubled. Opening her mouth, it’s obvious that she has more to say, changing her mind at the last moment with a harsh exhale as she turns her back on him, waving a hand in the air.

“Whatever, Hiro. Just...keep in mind that I’m here if you need someone.”

She means well. He knows that even as she leaves him be, walking down the street with her hands shoved in her pockets and her head down. Tadashi doesn’t know her either, and with them butting heads like they have been, he gets why she’d be concerned.

But she doesn’t know him. And Hiro can feel the divide that the last few days have caused between them, leaving their friendship off kilter, the even ground they’d shared disappearing with his cigarettes and studded jeans.

He’d make it up to her later. Right now...that fucking stain needs to get off his stupid workbench before he screams.

\-----

Hiro’s short temper carries through to the rest of the day; he spends another couple hours down in the garage, the doors thrown open to fill the room with icey, yet non-nicotine laced air. The place is spotless when he’s finished, and by the time he’s carted Baymax down there to work on tomorrow and it’s all locked up to protect his brother’s precious project, Hiro’s exhausted, snappish and ready for bed.

The phone ringing at eight o’clock on the dot snaps him out of his sleepy daze, and Hiro picks up the phone and slots it against his ear before heading up the stairs; with his terrible mood, all he wants right now is an uninterrupted half hour with his brother.

“Hey, ‘Dashi. You doing okay?”

“Yeah. Long day today; I’m exhausted.” Tadashi’s voice is low, quiet. It tugs at Hiro’s heartstrings even as he frowns, mood dropping lower by the idea of the call being cut short, even without anyone else interrupting them. “What about you? You sound a little tense...you alright?”

“M’fine,” Hiro says gruffly, flopping back on Tadashi’s bed. His brother is silent, and Hiro realises that he’s snapped at him. Groaning, he covers his face. “I’m sorry, Tadashi. I didn’t mean… I threw out the last of my cigarettes a couple days ago and the gum Gogo gave me isn’t exactly working as much as I’d like it to. I guess I’m kinda prickly today… sorry for being snippy.”

Hiro pulls a piece of lint off of the sweater he’s wearing before clearing his throat nervously. “‘Dashi? You still there?”

“I’m still here. It’s okay; I get why you’d be a little snappy. You should’ve seen GoGo when she quit.” There’s a brief pause, and Tadashi chuckles. “Actually, better you didn’t. I’m surprised any of us are alive to tell the tale.”

“I’m just as surprised as you are, really.”

“But hey...I’m really proud of you, Hiro.” Tadashi says softly. “You know that, right?” Hiro feels his breath catch a little, and he smiles into the phone as he pushes himself up Tadashi’s bed until his back presses against the headboard. His brother is the one going through a tough time, but he’s proud of _him?_

“I know. But don’t forget how well you’re doing, 'Dashi... I'm proud of you, as well…” Amina’s words play back in Hiro’s mind, and he clutches at the phone as he pulls one of Tadashi’s pillows into his lap and hugs it to his chest. “I love you, Tadashi. So, so much. Just… don’t forget that, okay?”

Tadashi’s breathing cuts out for a moment, and Hiro’s brow furrows, wondering if maybe the calls dropped out. Before he can say a word though, Tadashi’s speaking, voice quiet.

"...I know, buddy. I love you too, and...I'm doing my best… I can't wait to come home."

Hiro wishes they were in the same room. It’s been almost a _week_ since he last saw his brother, and it’s almost like he’s forgotten how it feels to have him close. Eighteen years of memories to draw on, but he can’t remember how it feels to have Tadashi’s arms around him in a way that does it justice.

"...I'm not letting you go. Never again, Tadashi." Hiro whispers, half-hoping Tadashi doesn’t hear him. "I’m… really struggling without you, Tadashi. I miss you so much. But... You come home when you're ready. I'll wait for you. You're doing so well, 'Dashi..."

"Dunno what I'd do without you, Hiro." Tadashi mumbles back, voice husky.

"You'd probably be better off.” Hiro huffs back, smiling into the pillow. “You'd have a couple less grey hairs at least, old man."

"I've been dyeing it for years already." Tadashi retorts, before adding in a much more genuine tone, "I’m coming back soon. I said it before...but coming back to you is the best part of being here."

"I... really?" Hiro's clings to the phone, his heart hammering in his chest; he's trying to put Tadashi first, making sure that his brother is getting better each and every day without Hiro holding him back with his own feelings but he’s... he's still in love with him. It makes everything so much harder, especially when Tadashi chuckles breathily into his ear and makes him shudder.

"Definitely." Hiro can hear the smile in his brother’s voice as he replies, his voice louder even though it’s whispered, as if Tadashi is getting as close to the phone as he can; it’s like he’s trying to reach Hiro through the phone, just like Hiro does every night. "I promise I won't make you wait too much longer, Hiro."

\-----

If Tadashi is coming back soon, then he should come back to a clean home. Hiro makes the decision before even thinking about it, and the next few days become a blur of activity. Running with GoGo in the mornings, cleaning furiously throughout the day and taking care of Baymax-- talking with Tadashi at night.

The talks are his reward. A way to treat himself for all the effort he’s putting into...well. Not just cleaning their home. Washing has become something of a critical matter the past few days; he’s got barely any clothes to his name, and his brother would be less than understanding if he came back home to his clothes tossed all over the bathroom floor. There’s things in their garage that probably haven’t seen the light of day in years, and things under his own bed that Hiro would rather forget existed at all.

He’s needed more cleaning up than anything else. His moods are still varying hour by hour, but the headaches and itching need for a cigarette don’t swing by as often. Part of that is the gum, which he’s sure is just one bad habit feeding off the need to get rid of another one, but four or five sticks a day won’t kill him…

Just his hair, if he happens to fall asleep with a piece in his mouth.

Which he does, with just five days left until Tadashi comes home.

At first, Hiro doesn’t even notice; he wakes up with a start at around five-thirty, having ended up slumped over Tadashi’s desk whilst reading through one of his brother’s journals regarding the routine wipe Baymax’s hard-drive needed to delete the unnecessary video recordings he took daily.

Yawning, Hiro pulls one of Tadashi’s cardigans tighter around his shoulders as he shuffles to the bathroom; at least waking up before six gives him time to sort himself out properly, brush his teeth and wash his face before Gogo bundles him out the door.

Hiro clicks on the light and blinks at his reflexion blearily in the mirror. Everything is fine for about five seconds until he sees it.

Right there, behind his ear. Looking back, Hiro’s actually _impressed_ that he managed to spare his bangs. He’s still unsure, however, how that managed to happen.

Hiro raises a finger to poke at the white ball in his hair before he narrows his eyes.

_“Gogo.”_

\-----

“S’not my fault you fell asleep with gum in your mouth,” Gogo insists adamantly around the breakfast table about an hour later as Honey prods at the back of Hiro’s head, making small worried noises as she googles ways to get gum out of hair.

“It is _so your fault,”_ Hiro hisses, wincing as Honey pulls at his locks. His fingers tap across the tops of his knees. “You gave me the gum-”

“I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to fall asleep with it in your flytrap of a mouth.” Gogo snaps her own gum with a pop, and smirks as she gathers it back into her mouth. Hiro growls, and is about to start shouting when Honey lays her hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t be mad, Hiro. We can fix this! I mean, when was the last time you had a proper haircut?” Hiro grumbles, crossing his arms across his chest and looking away from Gogo just as the girl does the exact same thing and looks in the opposite direction.

“Dunno. Couple of years ago.”

“You were fifteen. Tadashi and I took you and we had to drag you the entire way.”

“I swear to _god,_ Gogo-”

“Well, this could be an opportunity for something completely new!” Honey butts in, her hands raised and a pleading smile on her lips. She kneels in front of Hiro and takes his hands between her own, her eyes wide behind her glasses. “What do you think, Hiro? I cut my siblings hair, I could totally do yours! I think you’d suit something that frames your eyes, try and keep as much length in the front as we can but the _back…”_ Honey goes quiet as she murmurs to herself, running her fingers through Hiro’s hair, pushing it back off his face before letting it fall back into place before she nods to herself and meets his eyes with a determined look.

Sighing, Hiro pokes dejectedly at the sticky wad in his hair before looking at Honey sceptically and nodding slowly.

“Go for it, Honey.”

\-----

Hiro hated hairdressers. They had a habit of underestimating his hair; always loudly exclaiming about how thick it was before proceeding to attempt to yank chunks of it out of his skull as they proceeded to cut it back, and the strong resentment he’d felt for such treatment as a child had festered throughout the years, until he bluntly refused to see anyone. Having Aunt Cass cut it back a little every now and again was much easier, although Honey wasn’t bad at it, either.

It must be the sibling factor, because her fingers are as gentle as possible, and it’s only now and again that he even feels a faint tug. He can’t see what she’s doing at all, staring down at the kitchen tiles as his hair slowly begins to coat the space around his stool. It’s _okay;_ right up until she gets the clippers out.

“Hold up; how short are you going, here?”

“I’m just trying something new, Hiro. If you don’t like it, it’ll grow back out.” And so the buzzing begins, grooves of the razors vibrating across his scalp as Honey carefully begins to sculpt...whatever it is she’s doing.

GoGo isn’t helpful at all.

“It’s going to look terrible.”

“GoGo! Hiro, honestly, it’ll look fine. Trust me.” If only the makeup hadn’t turned out so good when she’d first gotten him to try it, maybe he’d have less trust in her. Shifting uneasily in his seat, Hiro waits for her to finish, visibly sagging in his seat when the electricity is flicked off.

Then she’s brushing his fringe out of his eyes, fingers carefully smoothing over his brows.

“This...might not be something you want to do, but since we’re here.... I was wondering if you want to fix up your eyebrows, a little? I mean- you have such pretty eyes, Hiro. It’s sad that you never show them anymore.” Her fingers linger over one spot in particular; the scar that breaks his left brow in two.

He hadn’t even realised that anyone noticed how self conscious he’s been of it; a mark from that night that didn’t go away when the lucidity of the drugs had.

“...Sure, Honey. I-if you don’t mind.” The warm smile he gets in return is answer enough. He’s never really done anything to his eyebrows before; they’re not overly big, so they’ve always been left to their own devices, but now Honey’s applying a hot towel to his face to ‘open up his pores and make it easier,’ and approaching him with a pair of tweezers.

It’s not that bad; it makes his eyes water a little, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. Honey makes a soft noise as she works on his left brow, fingers gentle over his scar.

He’d had the stitches taken out weeks ago, and although the initial swelling has gone down, it’s still bright pink and noticeable. At least in couple years, it’ll fade.

“...Okay. I think...I’m done.” Honey wipes Hiro’s face with the towel, and arranges his fringe a little before looking him over with a critical eye. She grins widely after a moment. “You look _amazing,_ Hiro. But wait! I just want to…” Standing up, Honey totters across the room gracefully on the toes of her heels and bends to snatch up her travel bag and bring it back over to the table. She rummages through it and pulls out her make-up bag before unzipping it and pulling out a small bottle for Hiro to see.

“Nail polish?” Hiro asks incredulously, looking at the girl sceptically before rolling his eyes and offering his hand. _When in Rome…_

He couldn’t deny the fact that he was having a nice afternoon with Honey. The time they got to spend together has gotten so rare recently, and he does love the girl like the big sister he’s never had, after he got over his childish crush on her that he’d had when he was fourteen. She hums to herself as she paints his nails baby blue, turning his hand this way and that. With a final flick, she blows over his fingers.

“Okay… I’m done. D’you wanna see?”

“...Lay it on me.” GoGo looks entirely too amused at his trepidation, and Hiro pokes his tongue out at her before closing his eyes, allowing Honey to navigate him through the lounge and into Aunt Cass’ room. The door closes behind them, and he’s turned to face it; the full length mirror drilled onto it’s back.

“Okay.”

Exhaling slowly, he opens his eyes, staring at the slightly nervous vision in the mirror.

It’s still him. Just...different.

“...Do you like it?” Honey asks him, hovering over his shoulder as Hiro cards his fingers through his hair. His bangs are still fairly long, fringe still threatening to fall into his eyes at moment’s notice; but the sides are gone. Shorn shorter near the hairline before lengthening at the top, a style that’s replicated on both sides; and the back, if he turns his head to look at it. “I’ve never tried to do an undercut before, but I figured if I just faded it back in at the top...it’ll still keep some of the length. Your bangs suit you…”

They do. They suit in really well; framing his cheeks and making his eyes look bigger than they already are. But there’s a difference, even so; his face looks more...angular, almost. Older. Like he actually might be eighteen, instead of looking like he’s trapped on the threshhold of fifteen, tops.

The nailpolish suits. His eyebrows look _nice_ as well; actually shaped into some sense of order that really does make his scar less noticeable. It’s really different.

Just looking at it makes Hiro feel different; the last time he really took the time to stare at himself in the mirror, his eyeliner had been a smudged mess, face pale under too bright toilet lights, cheeks too red to be attractive.

“I can take you to a hairdresser if it’s too much; they can fix it up a little more-”

“It’s perfect.” Hiro cuts in, turning around and pulling her into a hug. It’s immediately returned, and he hides his face in her chest, grateful for the fact that she doesn’t seem to mind at all when he doesn’t let go for several long moments, taking the time to collect himself. “It’s perfect, Honey. I love it.”

“I’m glad, sweetie. I think you look really good, too.” Honey pulls away after a moment, brushing his hair back behind his ears and smiling widely. “You know...there’s something else we can do. A little shopping celebration; some new clothes to go with your new cut. Freddy gave me his card a few days ago, so...we can go wild. What do you think? Up for it?”

“I do need some new stuff… and Fred did help me gut my wardrobe. It’s the least he can do, right?” They share a grin, and Honey bends down to link her fingers through Hiro’s before dragging him from the cafe, Gogo waving them off as she goes about cleaning up their mess.

“Seriously, Hiro, I know a store downtown that’ll fit someone with your shape,” Honey babbles as they head for the tram stop. “You’re so slender, but you’ve got the same sort of shoulders as Tadashi, but on a smaller scale. All you need are a couple good shirts that’ll come in at the waist, maybe some checked shirts, a couple new hoodies…”

Hiro lets Honey chatter away as they head into the city. Each time they pass by a shop, Hiro catches himself out of the corner of his eye in the windows and has to remind himself of how different he looks.

How different he’s _become,_ in so short a span of time.

He thinks he likes it.

\-----

“So...I got a haircut today. Honey gave me one.”

“She’s honoured. I can’t remember the last time you let me take you to a hair salon.”

“Yeah, because all the men there are old and one cut my ear once.” Tadashi laughs down the phone, his voice bright and loud. He’s been starting to sound better as the week’s gone on; Hiro’s not sure if it’s because the treatments are working, if it’s because his brother’s coming home in a matter of days, or a mixture of the two.

“Don’t be such a baby. So what does it look like?”

“It’s short, I guess? I think Honey said it was called an undercut, so it’s still pretty long on top… I think it looks cool. Also, Fred felt guilty for helping me throw all my clothes out, so Honey took me shopping to replace them. Sucks to be you, Tadashi; _I’m_ the good-looking Hamada now.”

“Well you had to have a growth spurt _eventually._ You missed that when you were fourteen. And fifteen. Sixteen wasn’t the greatest year for you, either-”

“Height does not a handsome man make, my friend.”

“I’ve been schooled. Honestly, buddy, it sounds like you’ve had a really great day. I can’t wait to see your hair, and your clothes.” Tadashi’s voice picks up the teasing note from prior. “You’ll have to do a little runway walk for me and Aunt Cass- we can pop that video of you when you were six in the dvd player, play spot the difference.”

“I thought we agreed never to speak of that video! You’re supposed to love me, you know? This betrayal…”

“I know, bro. One day, your emotional wounds will heal.”

\-----

Fred is a ridiculously hard to find guy when Hiro’s seeking him out. After the previous days shopping trip, he’d spent the entire afternoon wandering about in search of him, and when everyone finally gathered at the dinner table, he wasn’t there, either. Spending the evening with his parents for the brief night they were in town, much to Hiro’s disappointment.

But even today, he was proving fickle to locate. Hiro’s already given up on sighting him before Fred’s ready to be seen as he lugs a basket of washing up the stairs to the rooftop garden, balancing the heavy basket on his hip as he nudges the door open.

“Hey dude; hows it hangin’?” Hiro jumps out of his skin at the sudden voice, the basket falling from his hands and bouncing across the tiles as he glances around the small area, eyes wide.

Fred waves at him sheepishly from the corner of the garden, a small spade in hand and a few potted roses by his side. The garden looks freshly turned over; a pile of dead plants stuffed into a small plastic bag, everything actually arranged in an orderly fashion, rather than the hodge podge of various plants that it had been for years, ever since Aunt Cass had let a nine and a four year old decide what they wanted to plant and where.

In fact, the entire courtyard looks orderly for once, tiny as it is.

“...Low and slightly to the left,” Hiro deadpans as he picks up the basket from the ground, brushing a little loose dirt from the one sock that had tumbled from the top of the pile before giving Fred a blank look. “How long have you been hiding up here?”

“Couple hours,” Fred answers with a smile as he pats down the loose dirt around the base of the tiny rose bush before picking up a faded blue watering can and sprinkling the dirt with water. “Ever since I twigged you were lookin’ for me, Sherlock.”

“Oh, ha ha.” Rolling his eyes, Hiro grabs the plastic baggy Aunt Cass hangs off a nail in the wall that’s filled with washing pegs before placing the basket on the small table in the corner of the garden. Grabbing the larger items like towels and bedsheets first, Hiro begins to hang the laundry as Fred whistles tunelessly between his teeth.

“...So,” Hiro starts after a moment or two of silence, when it’s obvious that Fred isn’t going to start the conversation. “If you knew I was looking for you, why were you avoiding me, man?”

“Ah, I don’t like that whole sappy thanks stuff. Your clothes look pretty swish, though.” Fred waves his hand at him, still fixated on his roses. “Besides that? I figured you might want to ask about your brother, and that’s not the sort of stuff I want the other guys to know. Don’t think Tadashi would appreciate it, either.”

_How does Fred know?_

_Ask him. It’s not my place to say._

Hiro shakes out a bedsheet thoughtfully, hiding behind the linen as he pins it into place.

“We… we spoke a little. At the hospital, before he went away,” Hiro starts, his voice low. He can’t hear any noise coming from Fred’s little corner, so he assumes that the older man is listening to him. “He said that you understood better than anyone else. He wouldn’t say why, that it was your business, and it is, I just… if there’s any way I can understand ‘Dashi better, I want to... I want to know. The internet can only take you so far, y’know?”

Fred doesn’t say anything, and Hiro peeks around the corner of the sheet, the wind ruffling his newly feathered hair.

“You don’t have to tell me, Fred; it’s a lot to ask, and I know you’ve been Tadashi’s best friend for years and I… well, I haven’t, I just… I figured I’d ask, y’know.”  

“I get you.” Sighing, Fred brushes himself of, turning about and sitting crossed-legged, chin on his hand. “Thing is, for the whole context you’ve got to know the whole story. There’s a lot in there that’s not really about your brother, so you’ll have to bear with me.”

A pause, and he waves his hand in the air, voice casual but expression solemn. “And this is like, take it to your grave stuff. So keep that in mind if you really wanna know.”

“Fred, of course,” Hiro says, peering down at the man with wide eyes before smiling softly and disregarding the laundry to come and sit in front of the blond. Holding out his hand, Hiro extends his little finger. “Pinky swear; more binding than a blood oath, my friend.”

“Good stuff.” Fred agrees. He links their fingers together, shaking them up and down before dropping his hand into his lap, smile bland. “So probably the best way to start is to tell you straight up; I was seriously depressed during high school. Like, suicide depressed.”

“...Serious?”

“Serious, my man. My family- they’re rich as hell. You’ve seen it yourself, but they’re also kind of unconventional. My dad didn’t want me going to some swanky primary, so I went to public schools. Kind of a bummer when you’re the only kid who shows up to class in a limo.”

Fred makes a face. “So it was kind of the worst of both worlds for a while. My parents would take me to functions where kids ran rings around me with all this ‘upper class’ lingo, and back at public school it was either ‘I hate you because you’re rich’ or ‘if I’m nice to you, you might buy me a pony for my birthday’. I didn’t have a lot of trust in people, and since no one really ever took interest in me for me, I got pretty bitter about it. Really self destructive. So fast forward to when I was fifteen and for...some reason I can’t even remember, I’m on the roof of the school building during first period, totally prepared to jump. And then your brother climbs up the fire escape.”

“Tadashi...he stopped you?” Hiro says softly, eyes wide as he watches Fred intently. It’s so hard to imagine the Fred he knows to be the sad and hopeless kid he’s describing. He’s seen the pictures that line the fireplace in the main sitting room of Fred’s mansion; not that god-awful painting of the Lee’s on the wall that’s so staged it could show a broadway musical, but the actual photos.

Fred always looked so happy...

“He spent _six hours_ sitting on that rooftop listening to me complain about how much everyone sucked ass; especially poncy kiss-asses like him, who just smiled nice to avoid having people get mad at him for having enough brains to actually piece together an opinion.” Fred grins widely, laughing at himself. “I complained so much I almost lost my voice; told him all about how I’d used my parents as an excuse not to die, how it wasn’t enough anymore. And then your brother turned around and told me something that became my life motto.”

“What did he say?” Hiro asks, leaning forward slightly. Fred smiles at him kindly.

“He said that maybe I was just looking at it all wrong. He said; ‘maybe it’s not about making excuses not to die. Maybe it’s about finding reasons to live.’ About five minutes after that, he got me down off the roof and I was frog marched right into the nearest psychiatric ward. I didn’t even know how bad it was for him until after I got back.” The blond hums, rubbing the back of his neck and squinting up at the sun, as if recalling some far off memory. “Your brother has some pretty deep scars, man. Like...the way he talked about that day, with your parents? It’s like he had the whole thing right there; like it happened yesterday. And he pushes himself way too hard for other people. The amount of times I’ve seen him agreeing to do the stupidest crap for someone when he’s already past his breaking point is phenomenal. He’s a good guy, but he’s got _zero_ understanding of his own limits.”

“By ‘someone,’ you mean me,” Hiro interrupts bitterly, his stomach rolling. “He’ll do anything I ask him to… _christ,_ and I just let him, I-” Hiro swallows, almost choking on the words. “I’m part of the fucking _problem."_

“Yeah, well- yeah.” Fred shrugs, completely at ease in the face of Hiro’s discomfort. “You are. But that’s kind of the thing about depression; it’s silent. Your brother wanted you to load off on him, and if you _had known,_ you wouldn’t do that. So you _are_ part of the problem, but only because he let you be.”

“I’m his _brother._ I should’ve seen it, I should’ve… I dunno, I should’ve done something, right?” Pushing himself to his feet, Hiro paces back and forth across the small garden; he’s not sure what he was expecting from this conversation, but this isn’t it. The only thing he’s found out about Tadashi is that he’s the main reason Tadashi’s got depression in the first place.

“So what should I do? Just… get out of his life? I’d do it. If it made him better, I _would,_ I-”

“You could totally get out of his life, if you wanted to kill him.” Fred cuts in bluntly. He follows Hiro’s movements, right up until his words cause him to freeze in place, looking like he’s just been slapped in the face. _Feeling_ like he’s just been slapped in the face. “I get you bro; totally. It’s pretty easy to look back and blame yourself for every little problem someone’s had. _I should’ve noticed this. I could’ve done that._ You didn’t notice squat and you didn’t do bull, and that’s that. Bygones be bygones. But if you really want to help Tadashi, there’s a couple things you’ve got to keep in mind.”

“Anything,” Hiro says immediately, turning to face Fred head-on. “What is it? What do I need to know?”

“First thing- and this is something Tadashi probably could use a lesson in too; stop treating yourself like you’re the centre of his universe.” Fred wags his finger at him, frowning in a faux stern fashion. “You spend a whole bunch of time together; but he still spends time with other people. Sometimes he even spends time alone; crazy, I know. There’s more than enough time in the day for Tadashi’s world to include a whole load of stuff that isn’t even remotely about you. Self-blame and tossing the pity card around about how much better a bro you could’ve been isn’t helping.”

Hiro blinks, his mouth open in shock. It’s… strange, to be getting a lecture from someone as laid back as Fred is. Hiro can’t help feel the prickle of shame he always feels up the back of his spine whenever he’s getting scolded, but he can’t deny the truth in Fred’s words; he’s far too codependent on Tadashi.

“... I know. I’m going to try to be better, Fred. I am.”

“Knowing’s a good start. So’s trying. You’ll get it eventually.” Hiro gains a nod of approval as Fred slouches back, slowly holding up two fingers in the air. “Second thing; this whole time away stuff isn’t a cure-all. Tadashi isn’t magically cured or anything like that- be nice if it worked that way. He’ll have pretty bad days; bad weeks. Bad months. It’s not something you’re going to pick up straight away and I know that’ll freak you out, but Tadashi’s gonna have signs for when that’s happening. Little things he does that don’t really fit. Observe. Learn. Find out what actions help.”

“But he’s still… he’s still _Tadashi,_ right? He hasn’t changed…” Hiro murmurs to himself, hands loose in his lap. “I’ll… I’ll treat him like I always do. That’s okay, right? It’s like he’s got a cold or something; he’s still my brother, he just has a cold…”

Of all things, Fred starts laughing at him. Wild, honest to god laughter, slapping his knee like he’s just heard the most comical joke of his life. Hiro pouts, lip-ring jutting out. If anything, Fred laughs harder.

“Mother of Megazon, Hiro; he hasn’t been taken over by a hostile group of aliens. Chill, dude!” Fred wipes a tear from his eye, still chuckling between his words. “Okay, number three: do some research. Depression’s an _illness,_ not the queen of the Zorgons.”

Huffing, Hiro crosses his arms, his face red as he looks away from the blond man who’s outright _laughing at him._

“Anything else, O insightful sensei?”

“Just the one, young grasshopper.” Fred grins, leaning forwards. “See, me and Tadashi had this thing in high school. Whenever one of us was really getting down, we’d force each other to list out those reasons. Y’know, the ones to live.”

“...And?” Hiro arches a brow, pieces not quite clicking together. “I dunno if he’d appreciate doing that with me.”

“You’re so stupid with psychology; makes me wish I asked you this when you were the wow wizz-kid fourteen year old.” Fred says fondly, earning himself an outright scowl. “Nah, that’s not it. Number one most important thing to remember is that every time we made our lists, you were reason number one. Being here is the best thing you’ve ever done for him, and it’s still the best thing you can keep doing. Got me?”

“...I got you, Freddie,” Hiro says softly, his arms slowly loosening until he’s relaxed and pliant in front of his brother’s best friend. There’s a soft and stupid smile on his face, but it’s okay.

Fred’s the only one who can see it.

\-----

Hiro’s down in the garage when Tadashi calls.

If he’s completely honest with himself, he hasn’t thought of his brother all day; he’s been too busy heaving boxes out to the dumpster at the back of the cafe, throwing away boxes of useless templates and broken machines. A whole toolbox was tipped in there earlier that afternoon, the clasp broken and every tool inside rusted.

It’s a statement to how badly Hamada’s hord when inspired.

“Yo, Hiro! S’your brother, man.” Fred pops his head around the garage door, shaking the small device in his hand with a grin. “First time I’ve seen you lose track of it, dude.”

 _“Shit,”_ Hiro curses as he grabs a rag from the waistband of his new jeans and wipes them clean before reaching out to take the phone from Fred’s grip. “Thanks, Fred. Hey ‘Dashi, how’s it going, man?”

“How’s things with you? Everything okay?” The response is instant, concern evident in Tadashi’s tone. “I thought you might be sick or something when Fred answered the phone-”

“Relax, dude. I’m fine,” Hiro laughs as he throws himself on the couch and crosses his ankles. “I’ve been working on a surprise for us in the garage. And by surprise, I mean getting rid of at least five years worth of crap so we can _actually_ start working in here again. I think I found a fossilised subway that might’ve belonged to you somewhere under your desk yesterday. I hope you weren’t planning on eating it, because I threw it out.”

“My century old melt? Are you _mad?”_ Tadashi laughs; rich and loud. Regardless of how good today has been, hearing him in such a cheerful state is the icing on top of it all, keeping a grin on his face that Hiro knows is stupid. “I suppose I can forgive you this time; just don’t get rid of my tortillas under the couch; they’re a collectors item.”

“Ah. Well I have some bad news for you- I vacuumed today, too.”

“Bummer. I’ll have to start all over again. Years of work down the drain.” A mocking noise of distress has Hiro snorting, resting an arm over his eyes as he enjoys Tadashi’s presence; it’s easier than ever to imagine he’s right here, in the garage. Their space. “Something else to look forward to when I get home, I s’pose.”

“Speaking of getting home...soon? Two days? Three?”

“Soon. Can’t give you a date yet buddy, sorry. But definitely soon.” Hiro makes a displeased noise, drawing a chuckle from the receiver. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me neither. Feels longer than fourteen days. Gonna have to think of something awesome for you to come home to.”

“Pizza’s pretty awesome.”

“Or, y’know, _me?_ Who has missed you terribly and has _cleaned your side of the room_ because I’m awesome and-”

“I figured you already came with the ‘coming home’ package. Additionally, pizza is also fantastic.”

“Whatever, grease trap. I love you too.”

“And I love _you,_ buzzcut. Try not to exhaust yourself cleaning everyday, alright? Take some time to relax tomorrow; you’ve earned it.”

“We’ll see. I’ve still got some stuff to take care of upstairs, but it’s just going through old microbot designs that I don’t need and can’t use. I’ll be on my butt all day after my run, scout’s honour.”

“Sounds good to me. Some bad news, though...tomorrow’s going to be pretty busy with me, a few more final assessments, and the like…” Tadashi sighs. “I probably won’t have a chance to call, so if you don’t hear from me, don’t worry too much.”

“Oh.” Hiro sighs, brushing his hair out of his eyes before chewing on his peircing. “Well, I guess it can’t be helped. The sooner it’s done, the sooner you can come home, right? I’ll miss talking to you, though. I don’t think I’ve gone a day in my life without getting a chance to talk to you…”

“As your older brother, I can confirm that. Though you’ve stopped babbling as much as you used to...still a bit of a babbler.”

“Oh ha ha. Very cute, ‘Dashi.”

“I know. Sorry to cut it shorter tonight, but could you put Aunt Cass on? I want to check a few things with her.”

“Sure thing. I’ll go get her for you; I love you, Tadashi. I’ll speak to you the day after tomorrow then, I guess?”

“Yep. I love you too, Hiro. I really do.”

\-----

The next day is dull. Without the promise of his brother’s phone call, Hiro doesn’t have anything to keep him motivated, so the day goes by slowly.

He’s sat up in his room, and the house is quiet, save for the music he’s got playing through Tadashi’s laptop; Michael Buble, not because Hiro likes the man’s music all that much, but it’s Tadashi’s favourite.

He may as well have _something_ connecting him to his brother.

As far as he’s aware, he’s alone in the house; Cass had shouted up the stairs a few hours ago that she needed to collect some things for the cafe, and Fred had volunteered to go with her; Hiro can’t complain, since it’s left him time to finish up the last of the sorting out he has left to do.

He’s so _close_ to being finished.

He holds up one of the designs, squinting at it analytically before letting it flutter to the floor. He’s sat on Tadashi’s bed, papers spread out across the bedspread like freshly fallen snow, murmuring the words to the song under his breath.

Tadashi and his damn love for Buble.

 _“And in this crazy life, and through these crazy times,”_ Hiro croons softly under his breath, completely focused on his task.

Everything will be _perfect_ when Tadashi comes home.

_“It's you, it's you, you make me sing. You’re every line, you’re every word-”_

“-You’re everything.”

_He knows this tune off by heart. The moment he heard the music streaming down the stairwell, he’d known what Hiro was up to- sneaking about on his laptop, playing his music. Picking and choosing little ways to keep them close despite how far apart they might be._

_And really, Tadashi needs a shave. Eleven days without a razor has left him with a nine o’clock shadow that’s stubbornly prominent, clothes rumpled as hell, but at least they’re clean. But Hiro, by comparison?_ __

_Hiro’s sitting in the sunlight; back to him but outline sharp and crisp; bangs gently framing his face as he sings along quietly. The hair is different, definitely; clothes are too. The black and white checkered shirt actually fits his frame, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he pours over various papers, frowning at whatever he’s seeing there. And when Tadashi finishes the chorus with him; rough and much more out of tune than Hiro could ever hope to be, his head snaps up, eyes wide and disbelieving, lips parted into a silent ‘oh’ as he stares._

_Breathtaking, in every sense of the word. Tadashi smiles back at him, and dumps his bag on the floor._

_“Ta...Tadashi?” Hiro’s voice is lower than a whisper, shock almost rendering him mute as his eyes flicker over Tadashi’s face, and he feels his smile grow wider._

_“Hey, baby.”_

_That’s all it takes to have Hiro moving, pages scattering around him as he scrambles off the sheets and catapults his body into Tadashi’s, arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders as he clings, his breath coming short and sharp against Tadashi’s neck._

_“I...Tadashi, I-” Hiro stammers, his hands clawing into his back as he presses their bodies together, and Tadashi returns the pressure in kind; his hand comes up to Hiro’s hair immediately, dismayed for the briefest of moments when there are no soft strands for him to tangle his fingers into right up until he finds the length over the crown of his brother’s head._

_“Ssh, Hiro. It’s okay. I’m here.” Tadashi murmurs into the younger man’s ear, rubbing his prickly cheek against the baby smoothness of Hiro’s own, grinning as his brother pulls back a little._

_“You’re all spikey-” Hiro starts, but is stopped by a squawk when Tadashi pecks his cheek, giggling into Hiro’s skin as he still complains._

_He’s grinning, though._

_“Let me… let me look at you,” Tadashi says, bringing his hands up to cup Hiro’s face. His little brother looks nervous as he tilts his head this way and that, smile disappearing as he attempts to go for a more critical gaze- as if he’d ever not love a single hair on his head._

_“It’s different, I know. But I like it.” Hiro mutters, biting at his lip-ring._

_“I love it. It’s perfect.” Tadashi gathers him back into his arms, less interested in Hiro’s hair than he is in wrapping his arms about the younger man, feeling the way Hiro’s fingers curl into his shirt. “The hair, the clothes- you. Perfect.”_

_“I missed you,” Hiro whispers into his shoulder, fingers trembling as one hand pulls away from Tadashi’s shirt and makes its way into his hair, knocking his cap from his head and sending it to the floor. “I missed you so much…”_

_“I know, baby. I know.” Tadashi murmurs, bowing his head under Hiro’s insistence, letting their foreheads rest against each other as he brings Hiro closer by winding his arms around his brother’s slim waist. “It’s okay now...I’m back."_

_Hiro smiles before correcting him._

_“You’re home.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Muffled Passion (After the Battle) Plays in the Distance]
> 
> A show of hands; who actually noticed that Tadashi hasn’t called Hiro ‘baby’ since Chapter Four? And be honest, because we’ve been giggling about it for weeks. 
> 
> It’s back now, though. What could it mean…. strokes mustache. 
> 
> Questions, questions…


	9. (now i can see) The Light That You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scientifically speaking, Tadashi’s not sure he can bring himself to believe in another life. Heaven, hell, reincarnation...they’re concepts that he thinks of, from time to time; wishes, just for the chance to see his parents. Sit and talk with them, get to know them as the people they are, rather than the vague voices and scents in his mind. An old photo hanging on the wall that he passes every day on his way up the stairs.
> 
> Hiro isn’t a vague voice or scent in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bird: Oof. And here we are, another month later. That’s becoming a habit, sorry guys.
> 
> Annie: Soz, buddies. <3
> 
> Bird: It’s amazing just how much work we put into Hot Mess, sometimes. Yesterday, we spent a good four hours just plotting out the points for this chapter and the ones to come; I’m sure you’ll all really enjoy what we have planned for you. The atmosphere has definitely taken a really different turn, these last two chapters.
> 
> Annie: We hope you get as much enjoyment out of this chapter as we did writing it.

* * *

 

(now i can see) The Light That You Are

 

**I know it’s not the right time tonight,**

**But I won’t move until this stops.**

**We go back to the top.  
Oh, **

**Back to the top**

  * **Twin Shadow (To The Top)**



 

* * *

 

Tadashi's leg is stiff.

He’s been holding it in the same, awkward position for the past hour or so, which probably has something to do with it. The back of his ankle is digging into the edge of the couch, and Tadashi finds himself considering moving it for several moments before deciding against it; he’d disturb Fred, slouched back across his knee, and as happy as he is to be home, he’s not keen to have everyone’s attention. He’s practically a Hamada sandwich as is.

Sharknado is unrepentantly one of his favorite movies. He still remembers the first time he watched it; slouched down in a beanbag at Wasabi’s place, GoGo fuming to the left of him after the female protagonist got eaten by a shark. He also remembers the screaming, too, when said protagonist got cut right back out of the shark with a chainsaw.

But Hiro hasn’t seen it yet, as far as he knows. Glancing to his left, Tadashi feels a smile gracing his expression at the slightly unfocused gaze his brother is giving the television; he’s far off in a world of his own and not even paying attention, curled under his arm and idly playing with Tadashi’s fingers; he never was good at sitting still. Always moving. Always pulling something apart, or putting it back together.

Giving Hiro’s palm a squeeze, he watches those big eyes blink back into the now, immediately glancing up at him. Speaking would disturb everyone...so he simply noses at Hiro’s hair, murmuring softly over the sound of screaming and gunfire.

“Penny for your thoughts, bud?”

“Dude. My thoughts are worth way more than a _penny,”_ Hiro whispers back, head tilted against Tadashi’s neck, presenting the perfect opportunity for him to brush his face against his brother’s newly shortened hair. Hiro’s holding his hand in his lap long fingers stroking over Tadashi’s own;  gentle touches that trace callouses and burns from years of work.

“A quarter, then?”

“Oh, ha ha,” Hiro deadpans, though the effect is ruined from the way he shakes from suppressed laughter. Tadashi hides a smile in his hair; It’s tempting to simply hug him as close as possible... but with his other arm around his aunt, it’s not a good idea. They’re squished up together on the couch enough as is, and that’ll have to do for now.

Almost shy, Hiro pushes his fingers slowly through Tadashi’s own, lining up their palms. Tadashi brushes his thumb back and forth across his skin. No-one can see it; they’re all bundled up, blankets and pillows and throws making a veritable nest of comfort; a thick quilt is tucked around their bodies, separating them from everyone else, even if it can’t be seen.

“Just...thinkin’. That this is nice, and stuff.” Turning his face into Tadashi’s neck, Hiro lets out a soft sigh as he relaxes completely into him, boneless and warm _._ “....I’m glad you’re home, Tadashi.”

“Glad to be home, Hiro.” He’s missed him; doesn’t have to say it when it’s obvious that Hiro missed him too, stark bags under his eyes like his little brother hasn’t slept the entire time he was gone.

He should make sure he gets to bed early. If Hiro and GoGo’s accounts of their morning runs are correct (which they are, knowing GoGo), then he was up early enough as it was without dealing with a minimal amount of sleep (which he was, according to a quick and quiet conversation with Fred in the kitchen). Tapping a vague rhythm onto the back of Hiro’s hand, Tadashi stares at the television, not really paying attention to what he’s seeing.

“I think the gang wants to stay another night or two. You okay with sharing my bed?”

Hiro hums the affirmative quietly after a moment's delay, his face smushed against his Tadashi’s neck as he curls more comfortably into his body; turning into him, legs coming up to hook over Tadashi’s knees. He moves their joined hands move to rest over Hiro’s thigh before pulling the blanket higher up, tucking it over his shoulder.

“Think you need bed, buddy,” Tadashi murmurs, smile evident in his voice only growing as Hiro whines sleepily, his grip around his hand tightening.

“Movie’s s’not over yet…” he mumbles, nose pressed crookedly against Tadashi’s throat; Hiro’s breathing through his mouth, soft little puffs of breath against Tadashi’s skin that makes him shiver. It doesn’t take long for Hiro to lose the fight against consciousness, his head lolling down to Tadashi’s shoulder as the movie plays onward, his little brother dead to the world.

It won’t hurt to leave Hiro there for a while. Tadashi’s attention drifts every few minutes; from Hiro to the movie and back again; comfortable in the midst of his family and friends. He’s _home_ ; there’s familiarity and contentment to be found in everything he looks at, and it’s just-

Nice. It’s really nice.

Hiro gets jostled awake twenty minutes later; the scene in which the female protagonist gets saved in the most ridiculous fashion comes up quicker than Tadashi expected, to a chorus of yelling and popcorn being thrown at the tiny screen- including from Aunt Cass, who’s been enjoying this far more than he thought. His tiny noise of confusion doesn’t go unnoticed, and Tadashi chuckles as he finally moves, disengaging from Aunt Cass for he can hug his brother a little more comfortably.

“It’s okay; we’re going to bed in a minute.”

“My poor tired man.” Their aunt leans over, brushing some hair out of Hiro’s face. “You should move him upstairs, sweetie. This lot is just going to keep waking him up.”

“Sounds like a plan; okay buddy, up you get-”

“‘Movie…” Hiro grumbles, clinging like a monkey even as Tadashi chuckles softly in his ear, arms coming around his back and under his knees as he somehow manages to hoist Hiro into the air from sitting.

“Say goodnight, Hiro,” Tadashi instructs, bouncing Hiro in his arms slightly, as if he were holding a baby. Hiro grumbles before cracking open one eye, staring at him with a look of extreme exasperation.

“Goodnight, Hiro,” he deadpans even as he curls closer to Tadashi’s body, and Tadashi can feel the small smile against his neck as he hears laughter from his friends. A chorus of ‘goodnight’s’ follow them up the stairs as Tadashi navigates the way, slow and careful.

“When’re you gonna sleep…?” Hiro yawns into his hand, peering blearily around their bedroom as Tadashi carries him over to his bed, pushing the paper screen out of the way with his foot before kneeling on the mattress and turning back the blankets so he can slot Hiro underneath. “You won’t be long, right…?”  

“Nah, I won’t be long,” Tadashi confirms absently. He tucks the covers up over Hiro, pulling a laugh out of him when he tucks them right under Hiro’s body, pinning him between the sheets. “I don’t think anyone’s going to get through another movie, though we might try. Too much pizza for a late night.”

_You alright up here, alone?_ The question is on the tip of his tongue, but outside of the hospital, and when Hiro was injured...it’s been a long time since they’ve slept in the same room without any air of hostility or awkwardness choking up the air. Hiro’s eighteen, not five.

Even so, he sits himself at the edge of the bed, fingers slowly running through the thick black mop at the top of Hiro’s head, blunt nails scratching gently down the short sides. “Your hair looks great like this...but I have no idea when I’ll get used to it. You might actually pull off looking like an adult with this do.”

“Jus’ jealous,” Hiro murmurs after a moment, turning on his side and curling slightly into a ball, arms thrown across the mattress and fingers just a hair’s breath from Tadashi’s body. “I look better’n you, now…”

Tadashi laughs again, quiet and soft, and it makes Hiro smile; it’s been a long time since he’s heard seen Hiro smile so much; carefree and actually _happy._ They aren’t going to be perfect, especially with how things have been for them, so much unresolved that eventually has to be, but he thinks that they’re going to be okay, and okay sounds close to perfect, watching as Hiro hums softly in the back of his throat, snuggling further down into the pillows, letting his body relax under Tadashi’s touch until he’s almost completely out.

“Things’ll be… better now,” Hiro murmurs, words slurred from exhaustion. “Better now yur’home, ‘Dashi…”

“...Yeah. They will, buddy.” Tadashi’s answer is quiet, slow in coming. He sits and he watches as Hiro’s eyes droop lower and lower, visibly going lax as his breathing begins to even out. He’s not even sure how long he sits there watching over him, fingers running in an absent pattern through Hiro’s hair, just...watching.

When was the last time he got to sit there and just see him here, just- look? Look at a young man who wasn’t angry, wasn’t crying, wasn’t drunk or hurt. It feels like this is the first time he’s seen Hiro in a very long time.

“...Goodnight, baby,” he whispers under his breath when Hiro’s eyes finally close, his breathing slow and soft. Slowly, he gets up from the mattress, careful to ensure that Hiro’s not jostled too much before slowly leaving the room. The lamp beside the stairs is still on, but it wouldn’t bother his brother. Hiro could sleep like the dead when he wanted to.

He’d turn it off once they all came up for the night. As it is, he doesn’t even make it down the stairs; Fred’s waiting on the landing, arms crossed and smile a lazy greeting all of it’s own.

“Thought it’d be nice to head outside, for a bit.” The blond murmurs quietly. “You comin’, dude?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Fred gestures with a tilt of his head towards the stairs leading down to the cafe, and Tadashi nods before following the blond out; Cass shoots him a smile over the back of the couch as they go by, and Tadashi gives her one on return before she and the others disappear from sight.

Fred heads out the back-door, taking the key from the lock and bouncing it on his palm before locking up after Tadashi.

“Let’s circle the block, man. Get some air, yeah?” He’s being evasive, and Tadashi shakes his head at Fred’s back with a grin as the man sets off, hands deep in his pockets and his whole body a lazy bracket of a slouch, even when walking. Tadashi crosses his arms loosely behind his back as he falls into step with his best friend. Waiting.

Fred is as clear as rainwater, as much as he likes to think otherwise.

“So.” Fred gets to the point fairly quickly, looking up to the orange hue of sky and squinting, as if he’s looking for a star through the light pollution. “How was it? Not what you expected?”

“Not even slightly.” Tadashi admits with a small smile. “It was...something, that’s for sure. Made me reassess a few things.”

Fred hums knowingly, waving a finger in the air. “Mental retreats have that effect, I’ve found. Interesting people, at least.”

“Tell me about it. There was this one girl...had to be younger than Hiro. Suffering from schizophrenia, but she wrote the most amazing poetry…” Tadashi trails off for a moment, lips pursing. She wouldn’t be leaving the retreat anytime soon. If anything, things had simply gotten worse for her, the longer he’d been there. “Lots of people like that, there. Amazing, gifted people… it felt like I shouldn’t have been there at all.”

“We all got different problems, man. Just because yours is different doesn’t mean you didn’t need some time away from stuff. Thing’s have been rough in your neck of the woods.” They walk in silence for several moments, both lost in their own thoughts. For the most part, the silence is nice; Tadashi’s never felt like he’s needed to make conversation with Fred, and that’s not about to start now… but he can’t help but feel the curiosity oozing from the man at his side in waves. There’s no point in rushing, though; Fred would say what was needed when he had the words.

They turn the corner, and Tadashi spots the park, far enough away to make anything past the gate cloaked in shadows. He chews his lip, thoughtfully, considering the safety of the park and whether Hiro was safe out there, running every morning in the dark-

“So...how are you feeling, man? I mean-” Fred shrugs, shoes scuffing against the ground with every step that he takes. “Things got a little intense there, for a while. What with Hiro, and Baymax, therapist stuff… you think you’re gonna be okay?”

“...I hope so, Freddie,” Tadashi says quietly, slowing to stop under a streetlight as he inspects his fingertips rather than look his best friend in the eye. It’s… a hard situation, and it’s not one than Tadashi can share; it’s something he and Hiro have to work through together, and as much as he’d love the chance to sit down with Fred and tell him _everything_ (excluding some details), he knows that he can’t.

Fred doesn’t answer, but Tadashi can feel his friend’s eyes upon him and it makes him fidget.

After a moment, Fred sighs loudly, clapping Tadashi on the shoulder once before directing them back to the Lucky Cat, arm loose around his shoulders. “D’you have any answers, at least? You should have _something_ comin’ out of that place, dude.”

“You’re just gearing up to hear me say ‘I dunno’ a thousand times, aren’t you?” Tadashi asks dryly, and Fred scoffs loudly at him as he holds both hands up in a placating motion; sometimes talking with Fred was similar to talking to his family. When it came to certain topics, they were all easily worked into passionate indignation. “Answers isn’t the right term, I don’t think. More…”

He chews his lip, thinking it over. Ten days. Eight sessions of group therapy, three one on one sessions. A lot of quiet time. A lot of walking. A lot of sleepless nights, staring at the ceiling with only his thoughts to keep him company.

Of course Tadashi had found something; potential solutions and possibilities for a way to move forward, but it wasn’t an answer. Wasn’t _the_ answer, which couldn’t be that easily set in stone.

“I dunno, man. I think- I found a direction, at least. A way to move forward from here. I guess I’ll have to wait and see what comes from it.”

“Sounds good. Just remember to, you know, ask if you need a walking buddy on this deadly road of intrigue and mystery.” Fred grins at him, waggling his eyebrows in an overly eccentric gesture. “Even Batman had his sidekicks.”

“Competent sidekicks.”

“I’m not talking to you anymore.” Tadashi laughs as he’s nudged in the ribs, and the two take pot shots at each other the rest of the walk home, joining everyone upstairs for a round of hot chocolate before Aunt Cass orders them all to bed. He can’t say he isn’t glad for it, quietly reminding Wasabi and Fred to keep it down before closing the partition, looking down at Hiro with a smile.

He’s still out cold, poor thing. Maybe it’d be a good idea to gently encourage some early nights for a while; just until he stops looking like a panda.

Hiro mumbles as he slips under the blankets, and Tadashi’s quick to murmur reassurance, not in the slightest bit surprised when Hiro settles into his arms. He’s always been clingy in his sleep; grabbing at pillows and people, whatever’s nearest, before going completely immobile for the rest of the night.

How he does it, Tadashi doesn’t know. Despite his exhaustion and the weight of such a long day behind him, Tadashi doesn’t find sleep for quite some time.

 

* * *

 

Tadashi’s always been an early riser; it’s a curse, and he’s not all that fond of it when he finds himself waking abruptly to the sound of Fred snoring and faint light only barely making it’s way through the window. Rolling over, he glances at the clock and sighs quietly to himself; barely past six. Sunday, too, so Aunt Cass wouldn’t even be up yet…

He should join Hiro in catching some more shut-eye, maybe doze right up until midday- except Hiro isn’t here. Sitting up and shaking his head to clear some of the confusion, he looks about, half expecting to see him on his weary way back from the bathroom. But...no, that isn’t right either.

He and GoGo might have gone for their morning run already; there’s a pair of pants hanging off the hamper that simply confirms that idea, and Tadashi slowly pushes himself out of bed, shuffling across the wooden floorboards and treading down the stairs, perking up slightly at the smell of something cooking. Aunt Cass must already be up, then.

Or it could be Hiro. _Shouldn’t_ be Hiro; Tadashi hasn’t seen him near the kitchen in at least a year, ever since their aunt had deemed him ‘capable of surviving on more than noodles once he heads on out into the big, wide world’, but there he is, bustling back and forth and _cooking_. Actually cooking, so focused on what he’s doing that he doesn’t notice Tadashi at all, hanging by the stairs and leaning back against the wall.

He’s got hair clips pinning his bangs out of the way. It softens the shape of his face, makes him look much younger than the haircut does when left to it’s own devices; always interesting, watching him work. Hiro treated everything like an experiment, like an invention that needed all of his time and care. Investing his attention into ensuring not a single second was wasted, and the result so far is a plate of toast and a few pots full of mushrooms, bacon and eggs. He was putting Aunt Cass to shame, with the amount he was cooking.

He hasn’t seen Hiro cook in a year...so what inspired this, then? Humming to himself, Tadashi calls out quietly, chuckling when the younger man jumps a good foot into the air. “You think that’s enough for Fred?”

“Could be close,” Hiro answers, clearly ruffled. He brandishes his wooden spoon at Tadashi like a weapon before continuing, “and don’t sneak up on me, loser.”

His words hold no bite, however, and after Hiro sets down a plate piled high with toast on the table next to a bowl of steaming mushrooms, he places his spoon down and goes willingly into Tadashi’s open arms, rubbing his face into his collarbone and sighing happily.

“Did you get enough sleep?” Hiro murmurs into his shirt. “Not for nothing, but you look like _shit,_ bro.”

It’s odd, coming from Hiro’s mouth. He’s heard it so many times before, and yet...for whatever reason, Tadashi realises, it just doesn’t seem to fit anymore. Doesn’t feel right when it’s coming from Hiro, his literal brother.

“Not the best sleep I’ve ever had, to be honest,” Tadashi sways them from side to side, walking Hiro backwards to peer at the banquet currently sitting over the hot stove with curiosity. Hiro really did this? All by himself, no questions asked? “I’ll make up for it tonight. How’d you go this morning? GoGo still trying to kill you?”

“When isn’t Gogo trying to kill me?” Hiro answers with a grin, his trust in Tadashi obvious as he moves blindly, letting Tadashi bring them back into the kitchen. “I figured that you probably haven’t been eating all that well whilst you’ve been away,” he continues, head tilted to the side. “I’m not as good as Cass, but she’s been cooking for all of us and I figured I could chip in, y’know?”

Hiro fists his hands into the sleeves of Tadashi’s henley as he looks up to give him a small smile

“It’s okay, right? I was gonna make pancakes, but we don’t have enough milk, so…”

“This is perfect, buddy.” Tadashi assures him, smile wide as he squeezes Hiro’s waist. Hiro looks- mildly conflicted, pleased but ruffled, like he’d noticed the way their old term of endearment had tasted flat on Tadashi’s tongue. ‘Buddy’ didn’t fit Hiro anymore, either.

Maybe too much had happened to fall back on old pet names. Things were still very different from where they had been. Clearing his throat, Tadashi tries again, bumping their foreheads together affectionately.

“Really, Hiro. This is great. Let’s see if I can get enough coffee rustled up for everyone, since you’ve aced the breakfast side of things…”

“Sure,” Hiro answers, almost breathless as with one last squeeze, Tadashi lets him go and makes himself busy making coffee.

There’s a distant crash from upstairs, which can be no-one else but Wasabi as he pulls himself out of Hiro’s bed. Grinning, Tadashi leans a hip against the counter, watching as Hiro heads over to the sitting area and gently shakes Honey awake, brushing her long hair from her face as she blinks up at him, eyes less magnified without her glasses.

“I made breakfast,” Hiro says as a way of explanation, holding out his hand to her in order to help her to her feet, smiling all the while. “Better to get in fast before everyone else starts tearing into it…”

“You’re a darling, Hiro,” Honey says affectionately, pressing a kiss to Hiro’s cheek before tottering over to Tadashi and accepting the steaming mug of coffee from his hands. “Isn’t he a _darling,_ Tadashi? Do you get this treatment every morning? I’m moving in if you do. That, or Hiro’s coming home with me. There are no other alternatives.”

“Didn’t I warn you?” Tadashi says calmly, gathering more cups out of the cupboard and laying them across the counter; already moving to pour a little coffee into each one. He knows everyone in this house well enough to make a coffee they’d approve of. “You can’t feed him compliments, or he turns into a troll.”

“I can still poison your bacon.” Hiro warns, and Honey claps a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles, taking a seat at the table and watching the two of them banter with clear interest.

“You could, but I just got home. I’m starting to think you want us to move into the hospital, at the rate we’re going.”

“What can I say? The nurses are cute.”

“Always figured you had a thing for people in the medical field.” Tadashi murmurs, and he watches Hiro choke on air as he sends a rather knowing glance in his direction. Hiro flips him off before turning back to the bacon, clearly offended, and Tadashi pulls him into a brief, one armed hug, before joining Honey at the table.

“Ooh, Tadashi, you’re in the bad books now.” Honey whispers loudly, and Tadashi takes a sip of his drink, glancing over to where his brother is hunched over the stove. It’s hard to say what his reaction is, honestly.

“It’s my lot in life, these days.”

Hiro’s face is expressionless as he approaches the table, bringing over the last of the eggs and a small tub of butter before setting both down and wiping his hands on his apron. He flicks Tadashi with a dish-towel before smirking.

“Don’t be such a _baby,_ ‘Dashi.” His voice is lofty as he stands at the sink, soaking the remaining dishes, giving Tadashi a clear view of the lines of his back; not tense… but not completely relaxed.

Still, Hiro’s reaction is positive. He’s almost relieved, in a way- there was a chance that maybe that was pushing things too far, but Hiro takes it all in stride, teasing him right back. He can’t help smiling; Tadashi can feel it in the stretch of his lips, pleased beyond words.

Not that he doesn’t have anything to say, of course.

“Sorry, baby. I won’t steal your title from you.”

Hiro’s hands slip over the pan, dropping it back into the water and sending a wave of suds over his feet and down his front. _Maybe a little too unfair there, Hamada._

“...You’re such a butt,” Hiro murmurs as he sits down, kicking out at Tadashi’s chair to try and knock him off balance; Tadashi’s grin only widens as he manages to trap Hiro’s ankle between both of his own, squeezing enough that Hiro’s chair rocks as he attempts to pull away. “‘Dashi, you _dork,_ let go!”

“Only if you be _careful_ , nerd.” Reaching over, Tadashi grabs Hiro’s arm, making sure he and his chair don’t topple right over the moment he lets go of his ankle. Hiro falls back onto four legs with a loud thunk- and he would be right off his chair, had Tadashi not seen it coming. “You put all this effort into cooking breakfast; why don’t you try eating that, instead?

“I like Tadashi’s idea.” Aunt Cass yawns out, trailing out of her room in a spotted nightgown and wandering over to press a kiss to Hiro’s forehead. “Morning, sweetie. Please don’t kill yourself on my dining suite.”

“Sorry, Aunt Cass…”

“Tadashi-” He’s tugged into a headlock more than a hug, but the kiss to the top of his head speaks of how affectionate it is. “Stop teasing your brother, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Aunt Cass.”

“I hear people getting lectured and smell large amounts of bacon; what a good morning.” Fred skids down the stairs, completely oblivious to the look Tadashi shares with his Aunt as the blond drops down into a chair, legs rocking back haphazardly under the motion.

“How come _Fred_ doesn’t get yelled at?” Hiro says moodily at his eggs, ears going red as everyone bursts into laughter around him; Tadashi sometimes forgets how much older everyone else is, which puts poor Hiro even further into the ‘baby brother’ category. GoGo rubs his head as she passes, and Hiro swats at her whilst stabbing somewhat vindictively at the yellow yolks of his egg.

“Because I, unlike you, my young friend, am both cute _and_ lovable,” Fred says proudly as he piles bacon onto his plate. Hiro grunts at him in return, kicking the man’s shin with no real malice before before the table turns into a steady stream of conversation as they all eat together

It is _very_ nice to be back home with his family and friends. Discussion around the breakfast table is light, jokes and light barbs being tossed back and forth before Hiro stands, announcing his intentions to go get dressed to no one in particular.

Tadashi nods at him before his brother disappears upstairs, gently nudging Aunt Cass back into her seat and starting on the dishes, Wasabi and GoGo opting to help. Plans for the day are varied; Wasabi needs to head home, help his mom clean up their place since it’s probably a brothel without his continuous presence; Honey also needs to head back and check on her siblings.

Fred opts to stick around, as does GoGo; inevitably Baymax comes up as a topic of discussion, and the three of them are able to work up a pretty solid game plan for where to start on him. If anyone can help him work on Baymax’s mobility and make some marked improvements for his month absence, it’s GoGo.

“Hang on; let me just check on Hiro. He still had some cleaning he wanted to do, and I don’t want him doing it all by himself-”

“Sweetheart, Hiro just ducked out.” Aunt Cass pipes up, and Tadashi tries not to look like he’s just been slapped in the face, despite that being the exact sensation running through him right now.

“Oh.” Tadashi chooses his words carefully, attempting not to look too stricken at the details he’d missed out on. He didn’t even see Hiro come back down the stairs- “Did he say where he was headed?”

“Just to SFIT real quick, honey. Don’t worry.” She pats his cheek with a soft smile, surveying Fred as he puts the now clean dishes away with a critical eye. “He’s a big boy; I’m sure he can manage not to get in trouble for a few ho- Freddie, darling, that’s not where the plates go.”

Tadashi stares after her as she bustles into the kitchen to save her well organised cupboards, completely at a loss. It’s not like-- of course Hiro can’t just stay home forever. But he figured, at least for today, when he’s only just home…

“C’mon, Hamada. Let’s go have a look at Baymax.” GoGo claps him on the shoulder, and Tadashi nods distractedly, allowing himself to be shepherded down the stairs.

“Right...uh- we should have a look at running his diagnostics first, go from there?”

“Bring his blueprints up for me, too. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

 

* * *

 

He’s struggling to concentrate, a little. On the one hand, it’s always easy to work on Baymax. Coming back to their shed and starting him up is simple; he could run his diagnostics in his sleep if need be, and once GoGo takes the holo-tablet off the table and plays doctor with his work, there’s not much else to do aside from watch and laugh quietly at their antics; the blond is running around making horrified faces and spouting movie quotes, leaving poor Baymax to politely correct him on how he’s neither an alien nor Frankenstein.

The books slamming down onto the table next to his elbow have him jumping a foot into the air, but when Hiro follows them up, Tadashi can feel his shoulders slumping in relief. He’s home. He’s fine.

“This looks like fun. Gotta say, ‘Dashi, I think having Baymax steamrollering towards you kinda ruins the whole ‘huggable’ thing. Jus’ sayin’, bro.”

“...Well he’s not going to be that fast; right, GoGo? No jetpacks on my nursebot.”

“Yeah yeah; make him walk instead of waddle.” She pops her gum at the both of them, expression less than impressed; but she’ll be good. She respects other’s work, and Tadashi has absolute faith that she’ll do only as much as needs to be done.

“See? All good.” Tadashi finds himself waiting barely a moment before standing up with a stretch, clearing his throat and gesturing towards the door, eyes on Hiro. “Guys? Give me ten, I just want to double check something.”

When Tadashi stands, he gains back his height, still towering over Hiro even though he’s currently sat on their desk, and Hiro seemingly shrinks before him when Tadashi looks his way.

“Um…” Fred starts, hand half-raised as if he’s going to touch Tadashi, but Gogo grabs him by the back of his shirt and begins dragging him out of the garage before he has a chance to, rolling her eyes as she does so.

“Sure. C’mon, Freddie. Lunch. We’ll start it.”

“But it’s only eleven-”

“ _Now,_ Freddie.”

Tadashi can still hear Fred spluttering in their feistier friend’s hold long after they disappear from view, leaving him and Hiro alone. His little plays with the cuffs of his sweater, too long in the arm so that they cover his hands, head bowed slightly. It’s like he’s expecting to be in trouble; admittedly, Tadashi can’t say their private conversations have been the most pleasant, as of late.

“Uh… everything okay, dude?” Hiro attempts, the words heavy; _dude. Bro. Buddy._ Nothing fits anymore and Tadashi is still struggling with a solution, to that _._ He peeks up at Tadashi from under his eyelashes, shoulders tense.

“Yeah, bud-Hiro.” Tadashi corrects himself abruptly, running a hand through his hair. He can feel the words tangling together in his mouth before he even says them, pulling his chair over to sit down in front of him. Hiro looks...nervous. Understandably so, and he tries for a smile, just to pull some of the edge out of the air. “It’s alright. Nothing too serious, I just, uh…”

He exhales, chewing on his lip and glancing over at Baymax. “We’re satisfied with our care, bud.”

“Thank you, Tadashi.” The nursebot nods his head towards them before making his way back to his station, giving Tadashi the reprieve he needs to sort out his mind while his eyes follow the path taken, right up until the station’s lid closes with a soft hiss.

“It’s nothing much. I just figure it’s better to tell you things instead of letting them blow out of proportion, you know?” He laughs at himself, giving Hiro a weak little grin. “Not my strong suit, I know.”

Hiro cocks his head to the side, eyes squinted slightly in confusion as he widens his legs a little so Tadashi can pull forward in his chair, close enough for Tadashi to reach out and touch him, if he wants to. He rests his feet on either side of his chair and crosses his arms over his knees, expression schooling into something more attentive.

“...I’m here, Tadashi. I’m listening. Just… talk to me, yeah?”

“Just...felt a little weird, when you left.” Hiro’s brow furrows, and Tadashi hastens to clarify, holding his hands up in the air. “Not that you need my permission to go anywhere or that I expect you to be home or- you know. Just that lately, our track record when we’re away from each other hasn’t been great, and I guess it rattled me, a little.”

He’s not making any sense at all, Tadashi’s sure of it. If anything, he just feels childish; like he’s accusing Hiro of taking something away from him when really, all his brother did was go to SFIT for an hour to grab his study material. Nothing to freak out over; not even worth batting an eyelash at, and he _knows that._

But he’s batting an eyelash anyway.

“I get that you have things to do, and I don’t want you to hang around here for my sake, but...if you get the chance, maybe just...let me know, yeah? I worry.” At least then he can check that Hiro has his mobile on him; though whether he’d be willing to answer was always another question entirely…

“..Is that okay?”

Hiro watches Tadashi in silence for a moment, eyes unreadable before he slips his feet off his brother’s chair and flows down into his lap like water, settling across his thighs before putting his arms around Tadashi’s neck and sighing softly. He brings their foreheads together, noses brushing as he tries his best to comfort the other with his touch.

“...I should’ve told you I was stepping out,” Hiro says quietly, eyes closed as he soaks in his brother’s warmth. Tadashi hands move around his waist, squeezing softly.

“No, Hiro, I-”

“I _should’ve._ It was pretty thoughtless of me not to, right?” Pulling back, Hiro gives a weak smile. “S’only polite, if nothing else. I just thought… the sooner I could get there, the sooner I could get back... to you. Right?”

“Hey…” Tadashi hugs him closer, eyes falling closed as Hiro shuffles in, resting his chin on the top of his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. And you’re right; it didn’t take you all that long, either. It’s just me being a bit of a scaredy cat- I just got home, and I kind of like having you around again, Hiro.”

“Don’t be a dork,” Hiro mumbles into Tadashi’s shirt,and Tadashi lets out a short huff of amusement before they both fall silent, too busy being wrapped up in each-other to think about filling the air with words.

If anything, he’s surprised by how readily Hiro gives him this much leeway. Sitting in his lap; not tense or uncomfortable with the way Tadashi’s hands stroke down his back, or the way a hand eventually settles on his thigh. Hiro is acting...fine, sounds fine, and it’s a sign for him. An indication.

They aren’t completely torn apart. There’s aspects to this that are still frustrating, difficult to find his way through. But at the end of it all he still has Hiro, exhaling slowly into the young man’s hair, allowing himself to lean into his little brother as much as Hiro is leaning into him.

“...It’s something we can work on,” Hiro sighs after a while, resting his cheek on his brother’s shoulder, and Tadashi tilts his face into soft hair, almost content.

They don’t need absolute disasters in their lives just to get along, or show affection. That’s more reassuring than anything else, regardless of the words that could be said.

“We can do that.” He agrees softly.

 

* * *

 

The gang heads home for good the next day, thanking Aunt Cass for her hospitality and receiving fierce hugs in turn, before their small home is left a little quieter. Tadashi would be lying if he said that he wasn’t at least slightly grateful; as good as it had been to come home and be surrounded by their love and support, getting back into routine felt good, as well.

It’s getting there. Most days, he spends in the garage, working on Baymax and contacting a few potential sponsors and companies interested in Baymax’s future. At Hiro’s insistence, he’s taken to walking through the park just before lunch; quiet time that he didn’t realise he wanted, but it’s...refreshing. A change of scenery when his mind is just starting to fog over with the amount of coding he’s been working on.

Hiro’s starting to get things back on track, as well. He goes to the movies with some friends on Thursday, and heads back to school the Monday after. The spikes of anxiety that Tadashi feels, watching him walk out the door start to grow smaller, each and every time Hiro comes back.

There’s so much change, there. Somewhere in the middle of the mess that had been the last few months, Hiro had found maturity that’s striking, in a lot of ways. He’s up to date with his school work, despite the time off. Spending time with people that apparently doesn’t involve alcohol or dancing, and Tadashi has no reason to believe he’s lying about that.

Tadashi takes it all in without comment, adding it to his quiet train of thought on the situation as it stands. Where they are, where they have been. Where they’re going from here.

The day the gang heads home, Hiro shifts back to his bed. It goes unspoken when, at two in the morning, Tadashi gets up and moves the partition, so their beds are easily visible to each other.

Just so he can look over and see Hiro’s form in the dark.

 

* * *

 

He’s been getting early nights since he’d come home, but inevitably, Baymax needs the time and attention that has Tadashi up into the early hours of the morning, eventually climbing up the stairs and crashing into bed with a heavy thump. He’s out of it almost immediately, but even so, it doesn’t feel like it’s been more than a minute before he becomes aware of the mattress dipping down beside him, a hand gently shaking his shoulder before reaching up to smooth over his cheek. Tadashi’s eyebrows furrow, torn between batting the touch away and leaning further into it.

“‘Dashi? Wake up, sleepyhead. Your coffee will get cold, du- yeah. It’ll get cold.”

Tadashi mumbles back to him, torn between ignoring him and responding for several moments before reluctantly opening his eyes to Hiro’s warm smile.

“Hey, you,” Hiro says softly, fingers gentle in his brother’s hair. “Sleep okay?”

“G’mornin,” Tadashi’s voice is rough from slumber, giving Hiro a soft grin that’s still half asleep as he rolls over and pulls Hiro down for a hug. It’s brief; a moment to nose at Hiro’s hair with a soft sigh before letting him sit back up, slowly attempting to follow suit. “I slept fine, baby. Could use th’coffee, though.”

Yawning, Tadashi’s fingers run through his hair, ruffling it further as he slumps against Hiro’s side, eyes closed. “Can’t be time to get up already…”

He’s very tempted to pull Hiro down and refuse to let him go for a few more hours; sneak them both a bit more rest.

Hiro chuckles softly.

“Oh, it is,” he continues, looping his arm around Tadashi’s waist and letting him snuggle in close, face turned into his neck and hair tickling Hiro’s cheek. “It’s nearly nine, ‘Dashi… you get up earlier than this normally, you lazy ass.”

Tadashi whines softly into Hiro’s neck, slumping further into his body and threatening to send them both back to the mattress- which, in retrospect, is exactly what he’s after. Hiro makes an amused sound, pressing a kiss to his temple before pushing him upright and standing, holding a hand out with a smile.

“C’mon, you. I made pancakes? With canadian bacon and maple syrup…” Hiro sings softly, his palm upright and fingers waggling invitingly. “It’s not too cold out this morning, either. Wanna eat in the garden with me? C’mon, ‘Dashi… please?”

He’s teasing, grinning down at his usually composed brother, and Tadashi can feel the way his hair is sticking out at awkward angles. Begging a moment to wash his face wouldn’t be difficult, he supposes.

“They better be amazing pancakes.” Tadashi grouses, but he takes the offered hand with a smile, stretching out and padding across the room, tugging Hiro along as he goes. Breakfast in the garden? It’s unusual, but...nice. He likes the idea.

Likes it even more once they’re in the fresh air and sunshine, the world kind enough to offer them a cloudless sky and a warm day for autumn. Their breakfast is laid out on the small white table, and Tadashi whistles as they approach, beyond impressed.

“You weren’t actually kidding; this looks great, Hiro.”

“I never kid when pancakes and bacon are involved,” Hiro says, face and voice serious for all of two seconds before he’s grinning up at his brother, squeezing his fingers. “I thought a change of scenery could be good for you… you’ve been enjoying your walks recently, so I thought maybe being outside…” He trails off, his smile turning slightly rueful as he lets go of Tadashi’s hand and heads over to the table to take a seat; Hiro likes his bacon more crispy than his brother, and therefore takes the plate with the ‘burnt’ meat.

“Sit down, ‘Dashi. You’re making the place look untidy,” Hiro teases as he cuts into his breakfast, popping a square of pancake into his mouth and chewing, legs stretched out beneath the table as he looks over their neighbours roofs and off towards downtown, skyscrapers dotting the horizon as the sun peeks through buildings.

“Oh, so sorry, my lord.” Tadashi takes a seat, picking up his utensils. Everything looks fantastic, but rather than dig in like his stomach is telling him to, Tadashi finds himself watching Hiro. His brother looks utterly at peace with the world, eyes closed and head tilted up towards the sun. He’d forgotten how many brown highlights were in his hair, so used to seeing Hiro under the cover of darkness, or fluorescent lighting….

_You just keep growing up whenever I have my back turned, don’t you?_

“...I can feel you staring at me,” Hiro says a moment later, eyes still closed as his lips turn upwards. He cracks open an eyelid and watches his brother lazily. “Eat. I slaved to feed you, pretend to be grateful.”

“First I’m ruining the aesthetics, now I’m a creep. I can’t win, can I?” Tadashi scoffs, digging into his pancakes and savoring the flavor. He loves the stupid things, as Hiro very well knows. His bacon is cooked to perfection as well; not nearly as crispy as Hiro’s, which is just how he likes it.

Someone really took their time with this, this morning. And all because he thought that Tadashi might enjoy it.

“...This really is fantastic, Hiro. Thank you.” He mumbles, swallowing a mouthful and offering Hiro a soft grin. The look he gets in turn is so utterly pleased, smile wide; lord, did he miss seeing Hiro’s smile so often.

It’s been the best part of this week, by far. Just getting to see him smile again.

“Anything to keep you on your toes, dearest,” Hiro says with a grin, stretching his foot out to knock it gently against his brother’s ankle. He doesn’t pull it back. Just leaves it, not really touching but close between his brother’s own two legs.

It’s nice, having this quiet time; it’s obvious that Hiro’s noticed Tadashi’s desire for less words recently, and he’s been trying to accommodate; he asks less questions, has stopped filling the silence with idle chatter. It’s been working, too; Tadashi very quickly learns to appreciate just sitting with his brother and soaking in his presence. It’s not something he thinks he could share with anyone else… and he doesn’t particularly want to.

A light trill pulls Tadashi from his thoughts, and he eyes refocus on one of the planted flowerbeds; no flowers this time of the year, but someone must’ve managed to find a small hollybush they could tend to, the leaves green and waxy and the berries bright. There’s a small bird- a sparrow, if Tadashi were to hazard a guess- sitting on one of the lower branches, head cocked as it pecks at the fruit, feathers fluffy.

“You think it’s a baby, still?” Hiro asks quietly, cup held inches over the table, as if his little brother is afraid of spooking the creature.

“No idea,” Tadashi says honestly, watching with just as much interest. As if in response to their voices, the tiny thing fluffs its feathers up, hopping from tiny branch to tiny branch in an erratic motion that brings it just that little bit closer, head cocked as it looks their way.

Tadashi has to laugh as it fluffs itself further, wings beating in a rather insolent gesture before pecking at the nearest berry, as if to tell them that really, they’re no threat.

“Might be a teenager; reminds me of you.” Tadashi teases, nudging Hiro’s ankle. “What do you think, Sparrow? See the resemblance?”

“Psh. I’m _far_ more threatening than a sparrow,” Hiro deadpans, and he takes a sip of his coffee; his quick movement must scare the bird, because it sings softly once more before taking wing, as if trying to tell them both off for disturbing it. Hiro giggles at the sight, covering his mouth with his hand when he catches Tadashi’s eye; Tadashi rolls his eyes before gesturing at the bird with a look of glee as it flies away; _see? See what I mean?!_

“Alright, alright.” Relenting, Hiro knocks his foot into his brother’s ankle once more, smile pleased when Tadashi returns the touch. They’re _not_ playing footsie under the table, they’re _not…_ but it’s close.

“So…” Hiro says, voice almost shy in its quietness, “I’m Sparrow, now?”

“Sorry, Sparrow, I don’t make the rules.” Tadashi waves at the little garden, eyes stuck on how bashful Hiro’s being. How _pleased_ he is. “I’d say that nickname was pretty much destiny.”

“Well if I’m Sparrow, then you have to be _softer_ than a sparrow,” Hiro counters, words apparently failing him as he continues. “...I dunno, something soft and cuddly…”

Propping his chin on the back of his hand, Tadashi looks away thoughtfully, considering.

“The family on Aunt Cass’ side used to call me Teddy, you know.” Humming to himself, Hiro nods before levelling a finger at his brother.

“From now on, you are Teddy. It is law.”

“I don’t mind being soup, either.” Tadashi says mildly, watching his brother snort, smile only growing wider as he’s kicked in the shin.

“Soup is delicious,” Hiro says quietly, looking into his coffee. “...Not so sure if that applies to _you,_ Teddy.”

“Aesthetically displeasing, a creeper, and now I taste bad,” Tadashi shakes his head mournfully. “I dunno, Hiro. Having breakfast with you is starting to seem like a terrible idea.”

 

* * *

 

GoGo is a miracle worker. Her suggestions and adjustments to Baymax’s blueprints hadn’t been easy to implement, but the end result is a much smoother walk for the nursebot; not a toddle, a walk. And whilst admittedly, Baymax’s motor skills had been much less of a focus for him than his scanner and database, there’s something satisfying in knowing that Baymax can actually keep pace when he moves into a fast trot, leaving him ready to respond to emergency situations in a much faster time set.

He has other ideas too. A few concept designs that are barely off the ground, specifying varied models of Baymax to fit the functions needed for particular wards. Head trauma. Pediatrics. Rehabilitation. The sky is limitless for his invention, and Tadashi carries Baymax’s station inside from the garage, the cafe well and truly closed for the evening. He knows Hiro and Aunt Cass understand his current workload; it just needs to be a little heavier for a few weeks. So long as he’s still taking care of himself and actually sleeping, they’re fine.

The light is still on in the kitchen, and when Tadashi goes to investigate, Aunt Cass is there, loading up the industrial dishwasher  Humming a ditty to herself as she goes, and he knocks on the frame of the doorway before setting Baymax down, dusting his hands off onto his pants.

“Need a hand, Aunt Cass?”

“Oh, sweetie! You don’t need to do that! You’ve been working so hard…”

“I want to, Aunt Cass.”

“If you’re sure, darling.” Moving aside to let Tadashi join her at the sink, Cass gives him a warm smile before handing him a wet glass to dry.

It’s nice, having this quiet time alone with her; having been so busy both with Baymax and his own thoughts, Tadashi can’t remember the last time they had one-on-one time like this. Taking a soapy plate from her hands, Tadashi starts a little as she talks, voice low in the quiet of their kitchen.

“You’ve been doing so well recently, ‘Dashi,” she says softly, smiling as she puts cutlery into the small drainer to the side of the sink. “You’re… happier, than you’ve been in a long time, I think. I’m so proud of you, my darling boy.”

“Thanks, Aunt Cass,” Tadashi looks down at the plate he’s drying, almost shy in the face of such praise. His aunt is one of the most hardworking people he knows; if she thought he was doing well, then he must be. “I feel happier. It’s been a rocky year, so far, but- I think things are finally starting to level off.”

Not just for him. As if she’s reading his thoughts, Aunt Cass continues, glancing up at the ceiling with a fond expression.

“Hiro as well...both of you. You’re growing up so fast.”

“Well I am almost twenty-three,” He reminds her gently. “And Hiro...we knew he was going to come out strong. He always does.”

“Don’t ever think you’re weak, Tadashi Hamada,” Cass says firmly, turning to face Tadashi as she dries her hands on a teatowel. She reaches up and cups Tadashi’s cheek, eyes almost sparkling. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for- stronger even than your brother. Never forget that, baby.”

“...I won’t, Aunt Cass. I promise.” He sets the plate down after a moment, making sure his own hands are dry before drawing her into a hug. His aunt has always been affectionate with them, but lately the amount of gentle touches has practically doubled. Her way of letting him know she was there. “I’m sorry about the past few weeks; I’m doing better, I promise-”

“Oh, don’t be so silly.” She waves him off with a sniff, giving his cheek one last pat before turning to the sink. “You’ve been taking care of yourself; that’s all I want.”

She stays lost in her own thoughts for a while, finishing up the last of the dishes with Tadashi’s assistance before letting the water drain away and reaching out with dripping hands to flick the kettle on. She raises an eyebrow to Tadashi, who nods with a grin as she takes down two mugs from the cupboards. Tadashi rests his hip against the sideboard, arms across his chest as he watches her bustle around their kitchen.

So full of life. So… _good._ Better than both he and Hiro combined-

“I’ve noticed that things haven’t nearly as… antagonistic? As they used to be between you and your brother.” His aunt’s words cut through his reverie, and Tadashi shakes his head slightly before looking up, making a small noise of confusion as Cass chuckles quietly to herself, measuring out coffee grounds into each cup.

“Ever since you came back, you and Hiro have been thick as thieves. It’s good; it’s like… the world’s off balance when you fight.” Cass is quiet for a moment as she pours hot water into each cup and handing Tadashi his coffee (strong and black, just how he likes it,) before adding sugar and creamer to her own. “I guess it’s true what they say; absence makes the heart grow fonder.” She grins, somewhat mischievously as she comes over to stand by Tadashi, knocking her hip into his. “I don’t what you did to make him love you again, but keep it up, darling. I was worried you were going to level the house, at one point.”

“I’m half surprised the roof is still on, honestly.” Tadashi responds, though his throat feels a little tight. She has absolutely no idea- and he’d rather she never did. As much as she loved them both, the idea of her finding out what really happened-

What a nightmare.

“We had....a disagreement, about a few things. The way things had been going for Hiro. It really shook him up, when he wound up getting hurt like that, but things were still…” He rubs his cheek, lips pursed. “I was half afraid I’d never see him again, at one point.”

“Like Hiro could ever stay away from you, silly!” Cass punches Tadashi’s arm gently, making him smile. “He’d rather lose a limb than lose _you,_ Tadashi.”

Her smile grows fonder as she leans into Tadashi, and he winds his arm around her shoulder, resting his cheek on her head. “And you feel the same way, my darling. I was never _too_ worried about you, both. You’re… like one person, y’know? Hiro-and-Tadashi; never one without the other. Sometimes I wonder if you’d be as close if your mom and dad were still here…”

She pauses, her voice going thick as she talks about their mom; Tadashi feels himself shift, too; not quite a sadness, but more a longing for a life he’ll never have. He puts his coffee down and pulls Cass into a hug, the two of them clinging together and remembering. Long red hair. A thick accent Tadashi still hears sometimes in both of their voices. A laugh like sunshine…

Cass huffs into his shoulder, arms tight around him.

“...If Caera could see you both now, ‘Dashi… she’d be so proud of you…”

He stays quiet for a moment, letting her words soak into his skin like basking in the sun. It’s been...a long while, since he’s visited his parents. Even longer since he and his aunt went to see them together. Now wasn’t the time to bring it up, but later, he’d have to approach the idea of going to see them both.

Between the two of them, they might just be able to convince Hiro to come along.

Right now, however, it’s words prior to that which have Tadashi pausing, mulling his aunt’s statement over in his mind; something he’s considered himself, but always been afraid to voice. Another thing he’s been considering these past few weeks...past few months.

“If she was here, and dad...you think…” He exhales slowly, words passing through his lips with care. “Me and Hiro would be as close as we are? There’s not many people who’d say their sibling is their best friend.”

“Your mom was mine,” Cass says with a watery smile, eyes shining bright in the low light of their kitchen as she looks up at Tadashi with nothing but adoration. “I see so much of her in you…”

Tadashi swallows, throat tight as he looks at his aunt; to lose her sister… Tadashi couldn’t imagine going through the same thing with Hiro. He wouldn’t. It feels like he’s already come far too close to experiencing it too many times; all those occasions where he was almost too late. Almost didn’t come at all.

“But with you and Hiro,” Cass says after a moment of composure, taking Tadashi’s half-empty cup from the side and putting it in the sink alongside her own, the beginnings of another washing up mountain, “-it’s different with you, both. Even Caera and I weren’t as close as you two are. It’s like… you’re like one person in two bodies. You’re _meant_ to be together, darling. That’s why it feels so strange when you’re apart. Unnatural.”

Cass titters to herself as she goes for the secret chocolate drawer that Hiro doesn’t know about. She’s completely unaware of the sudden wave of shock she’s drowning her nephew in. “Caera liked the idea of reincarnation- that you get to live more than one life with the people you love. Who knows what you and Hiro were, once upon a time.”

Scientifically speaking, Tadashi’s not sure he can bring himself to believe in another life. Heaven, hell, reincarnation...they’re concepts that he thinks of, from time to time; wishes, just for the chance to see his parents. Sit and talk with them, get to know them as the people they are, rather than the vague voices and scents in his mind. An old photo hanging on the wall that he passes every day on his way up the stairs.

Hiro isn’t a vague voice or scent in his mind. His photograph throughout the years is scattered across the house, capturing moments of his growth that Tadashi can look back on with utter clarity. All of his strongest memories revolve around his brother- around Hiro. More than best friends, more than brothers. They always have been.

He’s never been able to define them in his mind, what they really are to each other. There’s no definition that fits, no description that captures what he feels and how he looks at Hiro, every chance that he gets. Imagining a past life in which they were any number of things is fanciful; something better left for daydreams and idle moments than the reality of who they were now.

Of what their future together would be.

“...Who knows,” Tadashi agrees quietly. “I think the important thing is knowing what we are now.”

What they can be.

Standing, he moves to press a kiss to his aunt’s forehead, thanking her wordlessly before stepping away. “I’ll see you upstairs, Aunt Cass. Thanks.”

“I don’t know what I did, but you’re welcome,” she calls after him, but Tadashi’s already half-way up the stairs, step light and fast as he hurries upwards, to his bedroom. To his brother.

But so much more than that.

Hiro’s laid out across his bed, resting on his stomach with his arms wrapped around one of his pillows, headphones plugged in to lessen the amount of noise in case Tadashi came up and wanted to sleep. He blinks as Tadashi enters the room before pushing himself back onto his knees, pressing his fists to his back and working out a kink before pulling his headphones from his ears. He looks at Tadashi, a small and bemused smile on his face.

“You look like you’ve been hit by a train,” Hiro announces as he touches his laptop’s trackpad lightly, pausing whatever it is that he was watching. “Everything okay, ‘Dashi?”

“I think Baymax tried to electrocute me about ten times today, but that aside-” Tadashi wanders over, unceremoniously flopping down onto the bed and ignoring Hiro’s protests when he half sprawls out on him, as well.

Catching him round the waist, Tadashi pulls him close, burying his face into the side of Hiro’s neck to hide his smile- he knows what to do, now. Knows what he wants, knows where to go from here.

Knows that he’s not too late, because Hiro?

Hiro’s never stopped waiting for him before.

“I’m plenty okay, so long as you’re up to playing pillow.”

 

* * *

 

_It starts out as just another morning._

_Hiro runs. Hiro showers. Hiro makes breakfast. He was going to try making English muffins, but the recipe looked complicated when he’d looked it up online, and quite frankly everyone knew that the best breakfast was anything that included pancakes and bacon, so why not do both?_

_He’s getting better, he thinks; nothing burns anymore, and even Cass has been so kind as to say that she likes his pancakes better than her own… Hiro’s certain she’s_ supposed _to say that, as his aunt, but he’ll take compliments where he can get them._

_Tadashi’s never got a bad word to say about his cooking, either. But then, Tadashi hasn’t got a bad word to say to him,_ period. _Hiro’s noticed, the way he’s been acting since he came home; close. Caring (not that he ever wasn’t caring.) Tadashi’s words are soft and whispered, adoration breathed into his skin late at night, words saved only for them in the dark, just as Hiro’s falling asleep._

_He’s pretty sure he’s making it up; seeing things where there’s nothing but plain shadows, fabricating a certain kind of affection when it’s not actually there. He’s going to stop, one day. It’s just taking him longer to fall back into the role of younger brother than he thought, that’s all._

_He should stop calling Tadashi ‘Teddy,’ really. It’s not helping any-_

_There’s a low chuckle behind him, in a voice like crushed velvet that he knows better than his own and is hot-wired directly to his heart; Hiro can feel how it goes from regular to erratic, just at the mere sound of Tadashi’s voice. Half-turning, Hiro spots his brother at the bottom of their stairs, leaning against the bannister and watching him with a_ Look. _With a capital ‘L.’_

_It’s not one he’s seen before._

_“...What?” Hiro asks, wiping his hands on the dishrag he’s got tucked into his back pocket before facing Tadashi fully, face concerned. “Is everything okay?”_

_“S’fine. I was just watching you cook, I guess.”_

_“You’ve watched me cook before, ‘Dashi.”_

_“I know. I think I always sort of missed…” Tadashi shrugs his shoulder, smile growing as his face goes… warm. It’s the only way Hiro can describe it; his eyes are liquid with_ something _he can’t describe, smile like a sunrise and everything about him is so breath-taking Hiro feels his mouth go dry._

_“...Missed what?” Hiro asks after a moment, almost afraid to hear the answer…_

_But somehow, he knows there’s nothing to be afraid of._

_“....How perfect you are, baby.”_

 

* * *

 

You can follow me and Annie at our [joint tumblr](http://foundinmeadows.tumblr.com/)!


	10. All In How You Love Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can still feel Tadashi’s arms around his middle, like his brother’s affection has taken form and is following him around, ghost-like.
> 
>  
> 
> _You can do this._
> 
>  
> 
> Maybe if Hiro repeats it enough times, he’ll start believing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Annie: Hello friends! Here we are again for another installment with, as it’s headline track, happens to be one of my favourite songs ever, especially the version we’ve picked. I’d recommend listening to this chapter-song moreso than any other… but I may be a little bias. Or I may not. It could be super relevant. Who knows? 
> 
> We do. We know. 
> 
> We hope you enjoy this chapter, and we’ll see you at the bottom of the page. Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Oh, and just a head’s up? Remember the story rating; it’s relevant to this chapter. That is all. <3

[ All In How You Love Me ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HRVzM2120vk)

* * *

**'Cause I could be the rain in your desert sky...**

**I could be the fire in your darkest night.**

**I could be your curse or your angel,**

**It's all in how you love me.**

**\- 3LAU ft. Bright Lights (How You Love Me - acoustic version)**

* * *

Hiro sets his alarm to vibrate on the night of the November twenty-seventh, calls a soft goodnight to his brother, turns his back to the paper partition and grins stupidly into his pillow before falling asleep. It’s now a minute past six o’clock, and Hiro blinks himself awake slowly before quickly shutting off his phone and sitting up, looking across the room as blankets pool around his waist. There’s no sound of movement coming from Tadashi’s half of the room, and Hiro’s grin turns mischievous.

Sliding his legs out from under his warm blankets and tiptoeing across the cold wooden floor, Hiro carefully pushes back the divider, pausing every few seconds to ensure that Tadashi remains asleep; why is it that when he _tries_ to be quiet, everything suddenly seems so loud? Not that it matters; Tadashi could sleep through a hurricane. Hiro has all the energy of a force of nature, and he chooses that moment to vault across the remaining space between and land square over his brother’s sleeping form, trying his best to keep his knees out of Tadashi’s sleepy body as he pushes into the mattress, bouncing up and down with enough force to shake his brother awake with a small cry of surprise.

“Up, you lazy ass!” Hiro giggles, face split wide as he leans over his groaning brother and clicks his bedside lamp on, his grin only widening as Tadashi blinks blearily in the light for a moment before his brain catches up and he covers his eyes with a hand, mouth turned up ever-so-slightly. “C’mon, birthday boy. Wake up so everyone we know can spoil you rotten.”

“…Hiro, s’only my twenty-third.” Peeking out at him through his fingertips, Tadashi huffs out in fond amusement, shaking his head. “S’not like Santa’s going to take all my presents back.”

“With how slow you are, he could.”

“Good. Then I can go back to sleep,” Tadashi groans out, rolling them over and pressing Hiro back against the bed, completely ignoring his loud protests and wild kicking even as he buries his face in the crook of Hiro’s neck. “The ‘birthday boy’ says five more minutes. You’re not gonna argue with him, right baby?”

“You’re _crushing me,_ you goddamn lump,” Hiro wheezes instead of giving his brother an answer, voice breathless due more to Tadashi’s words than his weight. The man in question chuckles, low and throaty before rubbing his face against Hiro’s neck and settling more fully against him, arm squashed between Hiro’s body and the mattress whilst the other draws aimless patterns over Hiro’s sleep-shirt.

“Less talk. More sleep.”

Rolling his eyes, Hiro lets his head flop back against his brother’s pillows before relaxing his knees on either side of Tadashi’s body, limbs tangled in blankets and heart racing. His own hand comes up to thread through his brother’s hair and he groans quietly, the noise happy and content before he sighs, long and hot against Hiro’s skin.

This… none of this is _fair._

As happy as Hiro is to have his brother back and for them to have a relationship that’s pretty damn perfect once more, the last few weeks have been _hard;_ Tadashi’s been trying his best to get them back to a good place, so there have been a lot of touches, plenty of cuddles in front of the TV and words half-whispered late at night when Hiro’s supposed to be asleep. It all burns as much as it soothes, and each day brings a new challenge on how well Hiro can lie to the world about his own feelings.

He hasn’t failed as of yet and he doesn’t plan on starting today, so he takes a deep breath, Tadashi’s body rising with his own before he releases it, slow and controlled as he continues his previous petting.

It’s just another day. Just another little way for Hiro to prove that he’s Tadashi’s younger _brother,_ not… anything else.

“...Happy birthday, Teddy,” Hiro murmurs, lifting his face to press the words into Tadashi’s hair before flopping back, eyes closed and breathing even.

“Thanks Sparrow,” Tadashi answers quietly, and Hiro feels the gentle press of lips against his pulse-point, making his breath catch before Tadashi falls still and silent. Hiro cards his fingers gently through Tadashi’s hair, eyes closed and mind still as he simply… enjoys the moment.

Not that they’ve become rare; not in the slightest, but Tadashi always seems… softer in the morning, long before he has to start interacting with anyone other than Hiro, and the younger man is able to see how his brother’s shoulders slowly tighten, like a wind-up toy overly wound.

“I think the gang wanted to head out, today. You coming?” Tadashi asks suddenly, voice soft as he finds Hiro’s fingers and gently plays with them, fingernails lightly running over his palm.

“If you want me there, I’ll come,” Hiro says, almost teasing and Tadashi huffs before tightening his arm around Hiro’s waist and pinching softly at his fingers.

“‘Course I do, _nerd.”_

“Then I’ll come with you, _dork,”_ Hiro shoots back, grinning stupidly up at their ceiling as Tadashi shakes with suppressed laughter before falling still once more, face still firmly buried against Hiro’s neck. He can feel his brother blinking against his skin, and it sends small shots of electricity down his spine to settle low in his stomach.

_You can do this._

“...D’you want your present?” Hiro asks slyly as he twists Tadashi’s hair around his finger; it needs trimming. “Then I _suppose_ I could let you sleep for a little while whilst I go make birthday breakfast. You’re not having it in bed, though; Aunt Cass would murder you if you got crummy sheets.”

“God forbid we have breakfast in bed.” There’s a pregnant pause, and Hiro knows that they’re both remember the same thing; the pained look on her face when Tadashi was ten and Hiro was five, and they’d had the grand idea to make her...something. Lucky charms mixed with flour and orange juice, and one set of sheets that could never be saved.

No; eating at the table was fine.

“Alright, you’ve got me. Bring on the present.” Hiro’s smile turns fiendish as Tadashi lets him loose; heels thumping on the floorboards as he darts off to his side of the room. Not that Tadashi would ever look for it, but Hiro always hides his brother’s presents in a different place every year.

Prying up the loose floorboard beneath his desk, Hiro pulls out a small plastic bag that he sets on his bed before placing the wood back into place. Tipping the bag up, Hiro smiles as the present rolls across his sheets, paper a dark green and shiny. He’s not the _greatest_ at wrapping gifts, but this one had turned out okay and Hiro’s still smiling when he turns back to Tadashi and holds his gift out.

“Happy birthday, Tadashi,” Hiro says, almost shy as his brother takes the package from his hands and pokes at the tape. Hiro feels a sudden rush of deja vu; it’s like every other birthday Tadashi had before Hiro turned ten years old; standing in front of his brother with his lip between his teeth, nervous to see his older brother’s reaction to whatever he’d put together for him.

But Hiro isn’t a child anymore; he’s eighteen, and helplessly in love with his older brother and has actually spent a lot of money and time on the gift currently in his brother’s hands.

He wants him to like it. He wants him to _love_ it, and Hiro twists his fingers in his sleeves as he watches, stomach fluttering nervously. Tadashi spots his fidgeting and takes pity on him, grabbing Hiro by the wrist and dragging him down to the mattress to sit beside him.

“It’s a present you know, not a bomb.” Tadashi pauses for a moment. “…Unless it _is_ a bomb.”

“I wouldn’t give you a bomb for a present,” Hiro grumbles as he sticks his legs under Tadashi’s quilt to warm his toes before cautiously resting his head on his brother’s shoulder. “...You could make a bomb yourself. I wanted to get you something you might not know _how_ to make. I guess. I dunno, just open it.”

“Yes, master Wayne.” Tadashi shoots back, laughing as Hiro’s elbow collides roughly with his ribs. The wrapping falls away to reveal a nondescript blue box, and Tadashi shoots Hiro a curious look before opening it.

A watch. Tadashi opens his mouth to say something, but then he looks at the face of it more closely and his eyes light up.

“A skeleton watch?”

“Mhm. I wanted to make you something, but I figure that you’ve had eighteen years of terrible stuff from me. About time I got you something good.” Feeling a little self-conscious, Hiro lifts the watch from its box and undoes the fastener, slipping the butter-soft leather around Tadashi’s wrist and tightening it enough that it won’t slip up his arm when he’s working. The dark metal face looks _good_ against his brother’s skin, and the shining silver gears inside swing back and forth hypnotically as it ticks.

It’s a beautiful piece, and it looks even nicer on Tadashi’s wrist. Rubbing his thumb across the clocks surface, his brother’s hand held loosely between Hiro’s own, he looks up to meet Tadashi’s eyes, smile still a little shy and unsure.

“Do you... d’you like it?”

“I love it, baby.” Tadashi’s response is instant, voice warm as he wraps his arms around Hiro and pulls him in for a hug. Hiro sags against into his brother’s body, hands gripping on the back of his shirt as he lets out a soft sigh of relief. “Seriously...it’s fantastic. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Teddy,” Hiro says after a moment, content to be coddled for five minutes as he feels his brother press a smile into his hair.

“...How’m I supposed to let you make breakfast now, huh? Spoil me too much and I really will get lazy.”

“It’s a little too late for that,” Hiro teases as he leans further into Tadashi’s body-heat. Tadashi’s lips are pressed to his forehead, not a kiss but just resting as his hand moves smoothly through Hiro’s hair in a gesture that’s become all too common. “‘Dashi, you’re petting me again…”

“You allow people to cut your hair once every ten years, nerd. I’m still in awe.”

“Y’know, when you _try_ to be funny…” Hiro deadpans, eyebrows lowered as he pulls back to stare at Tadashi; his brother laughs at him, loud and boisterous, and Hiro grins before curling back against his brother’s chest, hand flat against his brother’s stomach whilst Tadashi rocks them slightly, chin on his head and arms around his waist. “What time is it, Teddy?”

“It’s… around six-forty five, Sparrow. Why?”

“Just wonderin’. Lemme up; I’ll go get breakfast sorted out. You stay here, birthday boy-” Hiro adds, pushing Tadashi back to the mattress as he attempts to get up and follow. “How am I supposed to surprise you if you won’t be like every other twenty-three year old on the planet and stay in bed all day?”

Tadashi chuckles, holding his hands up in defence and Hiro’s eyes are immediately drawn to his new watch. It makes something almost possessive curl happily in his stomach, and he pulls his eyes away quickly before turning on his heel and bouncing down the stairs.

“Don’t move! Not until I call,” Hiro shoots over his shoulder as he goes, arms wrapped tight around his stomach for a moment before he fishes his phone out of his pocket and sends a quick text to Fred, telling him to gather the guys and make their way over for one of the first of the days many surprises, Hiro’s sure.

He can still feel Tadashi’s arms around his middle, like his brother’s affection has taken form and is following him around, ghost-like.

_You can do this._

Maybe if Hiro repeats it enough times, he’ll start believing it.

\------

“Fred, are you sure you know where you’re going?”

_“Dude,_ I’ve been scoping this place out for _months._ ‘Course I know where we’re going.” Fred flaps a hand at them all, taking point and leading the way with a cocky swagger to his step. Hiro feels rather than sees Tadashi’s eye-roll, held tight to his brother’s side with an arm around his shoulders. The rest of his brother’s friends surround them, and Hiro feels simultaneously out of place and exactly where he should be.

“Comic book store?” GoGo assumes with a smirk.

“All you can eat buffet.” Wasabi tacks on helpfully.

“No- but there is one close by for later.”

“Unbelievable,” Tadashi sighs, shaking his head. “...Actually, completely believable.”

“You wound me, Hamada One. Hamada Two, tell your brother he wounds me.”

“I’ll wound you myself if you keep calling me ‘Hamada Two,’” Hiro grumbles from beneath his brother’s arm, earning a round of laughter and a squeeze from Tadashi. It’s nice, to actually get to spend time with everyone without something sad bringing them together, or without Hiro watching the clock like a hawk in case he misses his tram downtown, pocket full of smokes and his own different kind of swagger.

He hasn’t felt the need for a cigarette in weeks, and he feels great for it.

“You tell’im, Hiro,” Gogo says, smirking as she ruffles Hiro’s hair fondly; they’ve gotten a lot closer over the last month or so, due to their runs together. Hiro tips her a heavy wink, making her push him away and into his brother, Tadashi staggering a little as he slips his arm lower around Hiro’s waist.

“Gogo, you tool,” Hiro responds, his irritation completely faked, as is Gogo’s look of terror. Tadashi’s laughing again, happy and bright as he squeezes Hiro’s hip and for a heart-stopping moment, Hiro thinks he’s going to keep his arm in that intimate position. He doesn’t, of course, but that could simply be due to Fred coming to a dead halt; Tadashi runs right into him before falling back, tugging Hiro along for the haphazard stumble.

“Fred! Hey, we’re right behin-”

_“Companions, our journey is at its end!”_ The blond shouts over him, and Tadashi shakes his head with an exasperated sigh before leaning around to see what the fuss is about. Hiro raises himself on his tiptoes to peek around Fred’s other shoulder, blinking as he’s blind-sided by the gaudy, flashing sign on the building in front of them.

“San Fransokyo Barcade,” Tadashi reads aloud, brow furrowing. He takes a surreptitious glance at Hiro, words careful. “Freddy, it’s only eleven. I don’t think any of us are up for drinking just yet.”

_“Duh,_ Hamada One. But when we are, the bar’s right there.” Fred explains with a self satisfied nod. “And until then- _we game!”_

Hiro’s no idiot; he can see the way that Tadashi’s face falls when he spots the words ‘2-for-1 cocktails!’ over towards the darkened bar area when they step into the arcade, and he certainly feels the way his brother’s hand clenches around his shoulder. If it was anyone else, Hiro would probably be insulted.

But it’s Tadashi.

“Hamada Two! House of the Dead, you and me. Let’s make it rain, son!” Fred crows as he reaches out to grab Hiro’s wrist and attempts to tug him forward and further into the arcade. He digs his heels into the carpet, shooting his confused friend an apologetic look before subtly inclining his head towards his brother.

“Go find it, and I’ll meet you there, ‘kay?” Hiro promises as Fred lets him go; the blond tips him a wink before disappearing into the crowds. Taking a deep breath, Hiro turns back to Tadashi and gives him an encouraging smile. “Walk with me, ‘Dashi.”

With the rest of the gang already dispersed to the four corners of the room and Tadashi looking somewhat delicate, Hiro has no problem with grabbing his brother’s hand and dragging him back outside and onto the pier, their fingers linked as he heads towards the edge so they can look out over the ocean. The breeze is cool, and Hiro watches as Tadashi’s shoulders relax a little.

“Talk to me,” Hiro says softly, keeping his eyes on the water instead of his brother to lessen the pressure. “If it’s about the bar… try not to worry, okay? I’m here to have fun with _you,_ not make my own. Besides… I wouldn’t enjoy it. Not anymore. I’m here strictly to school you in Time Crisis and that is all, Hamada One.”

“That obvious, huh?” Tadashi chuckles ruefully, running his fingers through his hair. His other hand squeezes Hiro’s. “It has nothing to do with not being comfortable if you wanted a drink, Sparrow. I just…” Blowing a strand of hair from his eyes, Tadashi makes a face at the horizon. “I doubt I’ll ever be fully comfortable with you around other people drinking.”

Hiro blinks up at him, mouth open in surprise as the wind blows his bangs across his eyes. Tadashi’s looking out at the ocean, shoulders slightly hunched and arms crossing as he lets go of Hiro’s hand, movements almost defensive and Hiro-

He doesn’t like that.

“Hey…” he says softly, hand soft on his brother’s shoulder as he turns him around and falls into his arms, his own curling around Tadashi’s waist as he rests his head on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You guys will be there with me, I’ll be okay. And I’ll never drink like that again, y’know?” Tadashi breathes out slowly, arms tightening around Hiro’s body. “...I’m happy that you trust me, Teddy,” Hiro murmurs into his brother’s cardigan, eyes closing and a small smile on his face.

“...I always have, baby.” Tadashi answers quietly, ducking his head down to bury his nose in Hiro’s hair, breathing slowly. “Thanks, Hiro. I really appreciate this.” Tadashi presses his lips to Hiro’s forehead, murmuring his words into his skin.

“...Sure,” Hiro manages to croak out after a moment, heart beating erratically as he slowly unclenches his hands from Tadashi’s jacket.

His brother’s never called him baby outside of their bedroom, before. Never where anyone other than Hiro could overhear him, and _never when he’s been awake._ Tadashi probably doesn’t realise how much it makes Hiro feel like the world’s being shifted; it’s a comfort, a nickname for his baby brother that makes Hiro feel better when he’s unsure. There’s nothing else to it, even when Tadashi takes his hand once more and leads him back into the arcade, the face of his watch glinting when it catches the sun-

_You can do this._

It takes a few minutes to find the gang in the thick of things; and the moment they do, Fred’s dragging Hiro over to one of the many machines, yodelling about zombies as Hiro looks on with surprisingly endless patience. GoGo and Wasabi are nowhere to be seen, so Hiro waves over his shoulder at his brother and Honey before they disappear from sight, as well.

Fred’s already found his game in the time it took to soothe his brother, and Hiro takes the plastic gun from his friend with good humour, feeding the machine a few coins before firing at the screen to pick his character.

It’s pretty obvious that Fred has played this game more than a couple times, considering he mouths along to the opening cut scene and has his gun pointed at the screen where the first zombie jumps up, picking it off before Hiro can even raise his weapon. Not to be deterred, Hiro takes out the majority of the next wave, and for a while they share no words other than smack-talk and digs at each-other’s playing ability.

Hiro twirls his plastic gun around his finger, grinning widely as he stares up at his score; it’s pretty impressive, at least for him, and he turns to Fred to gloat- only to choke on his own spit when he sees the blond’s score rattling across the top of the screen.

It’s three times bigger than Hiro’s.

“I… I don’t- _how?”_ Hiro splutters, placing his controller back into its slot and pointing an accusing finger at Fred’s face. “I was _winning,_ how the hell did you manage-!?”

“Two things, young grasshopper; I have age and experience on you,” Fred answers sagely, taking a long sip from his soda before patting Hiro on the head and skipping away, whistling tunelessly between his teeth. “I bet there’s something with dinosaurs around here, sonny. You like dinosaurs, right?”

“Yeah, when I was _twelve,_ asshat.” Throwing a crumpled napkin at the back of his friend’s head, Hiro flips Fred off when he shoots puppy-eyes back over his shoulder at him before they both crack up into laughter. “You go on, man. I’m gonna try trackin’ down the birthday boy. Make sure he isn’t causing too much trouble.”

In actuality, he hasn’t seen head nor tail of his older brother for a good thirty minutes, and although Hiro knows that Tadashi is more than capable of looking after himself, it’s still a little worrying to have him out of sight for so long, especially in a public place. Hands in his pockets, Hiro makes his way slowly through the arcade, spotting Wasabi moving with more coordination and grace than he ever would’ve guessed over on one of the DDR machines; Gogo is glued to one of the bike racers and Honey-

“There you are,” Hiro murmurs to himself, spotting his brother’s cap as Honey’s hair swings out of the way as she turns on her toes and goes over to one of the vending machines, once again shocking Hiro with how well she manages to walk in six-inch heels.

Sideling up to his brother, Hiro knocks his shoulder into Tadashi’s upper arm, giving him a gentle smile as he curls his fingers into his brother’s pocket.

“Havin’ fun, ‘Dashi?” Hiro asks, raising himself on his toes to try and see what his brother has in his hands. “You’ve not been sinkin’ your money in the claw machines again, have you?”

“Me? Waste money on claw machines?” Tadashi puts a hand on his chest, faux hurt. Hiro doesn’t buy it for a moment, and his face must say so as Tadashi chuckles before resting his hard earned prize in his brother’s hands, practically beaming.

“Not a claw machine, just- saw this. It reminded me of you.”

“I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered,” Hiro answers with a smile, taking the small stuffed robot from Tadashi’s hands and looking it over, cheeks flushing with pleasure as he traces the small heart stitched into the grey felt of its body. Its square, with ribbon arms and legs, cubed hands and feet and a little face with bright purple headphones. It’s pretty cute-

But his brother getting it for him is cuter.

“Thanks, ‘Dashi. He’s… sweet. So what about it made you think of me, hmm?” Keeping his tone light and teasing, Hiro carefully folds the little robot’s arms and legs so he can fit the plushie into his pocket, the head hanging out as if to look around. Stepping closer, Hiro’s smile widens as Tadashi pulls him into his arms, just as he knew he would. Tadashi squeezes him in lew of an answer, turning them in a slow circle as he tries to find their friends.

“So, we either get dragged into that brewing tournament of death, over there,” Tadashi nods towards Wasabi, who has a small queue of people lining up to take him on. Honestly, Hiro knows better to get mixed up in that bloodbath. “Or we can let Gogo trounce us in racing.”

“Oh boy, what choices.” Hiro says dryly, and Tadashi chuckles before giving his waist a gentle squeeze and pulling him along.

“For once, GoGo is the safer choice. Ready to show me why I never want you to get your license?”

“Rude, for one. I make an _excellent_ driver,” Hiro sniffs, holding his head up as he follows after his brother. “You’re far too defensive; bet you like, fifty dollars I make the safest driver ever.”

“I’ll take that bet,” Gogo interjects, her smirk wide as she twists enough to face them, sitting quite comfortably in the fake driver’s seat as she takes a long sip of water. “You ready to lose, shorty?”

“In your dreams, sweetheart,” Hiro drawls as he drops himself into the hard plastic, fishing in his pocket for a few dollars as he stretches his legs out and-

Damn. Someone taller than him must’ve played last, since his toes barely scrape the pedals. Grumbling, he reaches under the seat to find the lever that should hopefully bring him closer… only to find it missing. Grouching, Hiro tries rocking the seat forward, but to no avail. Gogo’s looking at him with her eyebrow raised, her seat clearly working and Hiro shrugs, his smile a little rueful.

“Sorry, Gogo. You must be this tall to ride,” Hiro jokes as he climbs out of the chair and gestures to Tadashi to take a seat. “C’mon, Hamada One. Bring our family honour in my stead.” Tadashi looks between him and the game, humming thoughtfully for a moment before stepping forward.

“I’m sure two minds are better than one- c’mon, Sparrow.” Tadashi sits down, checking to ensure he can reach the accelerator with his foot before looking to Hiro and patting his lap invitingly. “Let’s show her how it’s done.”

For a moment, all Hiro can do is stare, face blank for all of five seconds before he’s grinning, the smile a little forced to hide the way his heart clenches. He looks over to Gogo before gesturing to his brother. “You happy with a two-on-one fight?”

“Pfft. ‘Fight.’” Gogo’s smile is wide, and she holds Hiro’s eyes as she takes her gum out of her mouth and puts it on the cap of her water bottle. “Good luck, _boys.”_

Grinning, Hiro jumps to his brother’s side, bracing his hand on the steering wheel and the back of the seat before lowering himself onto Tadashi’s knees, his legs slightly splayed in order to reach the pedals. His brother’s arms close around his waist briefly to settle Hiro in a position that must be more comfortable before Tadashi’s hands fall away. Clearing his throat, Hiro tries to relax, his back and shoulders tense as Tadashi’s thighs move under him.

There’s no way he’s going to win. Not with his brother distracting him like this, not even knowing that he’s doing it. Sighing, Hiro selects the car and picks for a manual gear change.

“Accelerate. Clutch. Break plus a number so you know how much I need, okay? Always go full throttle when you speed up, ‘kay?” Hiro mutters as he turns his head a little to catch his brother’s eyes. Tadashi looks sceptical, and Hiro can’t help himself; he bounces in Tadashi’s lap, just once, before grinning.

“C’mon scaredy cat. You said you trusted me, right?”

“I gotta say, the fact that this is a simulation helps with that.” Hiro pouts up at him, and Tadashi huffs out a laugh, arms wrapping about Hiro’s waist as he rests his chin on his shoulder. “I’m ready. Hope you’re ready to lose, Gogo.”

“Right.” She couldn’t sound more sceptical about that, swiping their cards for them and filling the space with the loud music of- whatever kitschy rock song had been licensed to this machine.

“Don’t let me down, Hamada One.” Hiro warns Tadashi, the screen flashing with a short countdown. His arms tighten around Hiro for a moment as Tadashi sits up; Hiro chances a look at his brother’s face and swallows. He’s all sharp jawline and focus. Before the number reaches zero, Tadashi turns his face just enough to press his mouth to Hiro’s hair.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Hamada Two.”

\------

To the surprise of no-one, they work really well together. They don’t come close to beating Gogo (which she happily gloats about once they come back together as a group and head into the bar), but they come second in most of the races, which had to count for something.

“Considering you were racing the Speed Queen herself, coming second is like winning in my books, Hamadas,” Fred announces later on around a mouthful of salted pretzels, gesturing wildly with his beer as Wasabi looks on in disgust. Honey giggles quietly from her seat next to Hiro as she takes a delicate sip of whatever fruity concoction she’s drinking; it smells minty, but Hiro hadn’t liked the lime when she’d offered him a sip.

Aside from himself and Honey, the others all have a beer and some form of bar appetiser; Tadashi and Wasabi have wings, whereas the girls each have a basket of curly fries. It’s nice, to sit around with them and just chill; nice to have a drink in his hand knowing that he’ll maybe have another and then go home sober; nice to know that he’s going to remember spending time with these people, and it’s going to be time well spent.

Nice that Tadashi is sat beside him, their knees touching beneath the table with a beer in front of him and not looking at Hiro like he’s grown another head. His brother is relaxed, and Hiro couldn’t be happier.

“So, Tadashi,” Honey pipes up as she fishes the cherry out of her drink and pops it into her mouth with a small smile. “Are you having a nice birthday?”

“Well,” Tadashi swallows a mouthful of chicken, quickly washing it down with a mouthful of beer and making a face that Hiro giggles at. “It’s been pretty great. Could be a little better, though.”

“Tadashi, no.” Hiro says firmly, all traces of laughter gone as everyone at the table groans. “Seriously, _no.”_

“I’m not watching that movie again.” Fred agrees solemnly, sipping at his drink. “I’m naht.”

“Do _not_ encourage him.” Gogo says, elbowing him in the ribs. “You’re on your own for that one, Hamada One. I have work tonight.”

“S’all good; Hiro doesn’t have work.” Tadashi smiles as Hiro hides his face against the table, whining under his breath. Honey pats his back consolingly, but it doesn’t help; she won’t have to suffer through The Room for the _tenth year in a row._

“Well we might not be available for _that,_ but there is one thing we should all do.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” There’s a pause, and Hiro peeks up from the safety of his arms to see where Honey’s pointing. It’s a photo booth. Oh _no._ “I’m down for it. Hiro, want to take some photos?”

“You make it sound like I have a choice to _both_ of those requests,” Hiro says flatly, swirling his cocktail glass a little and throwing the liquid back before he’s dragged out of his seat by both Tadashi and Honey. She gives him a small shrug, but it doesn’t heal the sting of her utter _betrayal._

“Have fun, everyone! I shall wait here for your return!” Fred shouts over to them, lounging lordly in his chair. Hiro splutters as he digs his heels once more into the ground, throwing his weight backwards in an attempt to reach Fred.

“Oh no, Lee; if I’m suffering, you are too. Wasabi! Get’im!” The large man shakes his head, a grin transforming his face as he grabs Fred around the middle and lifts him over his shoulder as the blond squeals loudly, arms flailing as Wasabi walks over to them, carrying Fred easily.

“Seriously, ‘Sabi, do I weigh _nothing_ to you?” Fred demands as he dropped back onto the floor, much to everyone else’s amusement. Wasabi shrugs, his smile turning a little shy.

“You weigh _something._ Like carrying two grapes.”

“You _suck,_ dude…” Fred grumps as he pushes past the curtain and enters the booth. Honey and Gogo following close behind, Gogo’s taunts going muffled as the curtain almost swings back before Wasabi grabs the edge and follows them inside, the sounds of giggling reaching Hiro as he looks back at Tadashi with a soft smile.

“D’you think we’ll fit, birthday boy?”

“Here’s hoping. But just in case we die, I want you to know…” Tadashi leans in, expression entirely serious. He tugs Hiro a little closer, mouth at his ear as he quietly murmurs his long awaited admission.

“I was definitely the one who broke Aunt Cass’ favourite pot when we were little.”

“...Are you _serious!?_ I was grounded for that!” Hiro gasps, shoving Tadashi slightly in the chest before he does something moronic like burst out laughing. His brother is already giggling to himself, the bubbles having clearly gone to his head and making him stupid. Hiro shakes his head at him, pushing his fringe up out of the way as he looks at his _perfect_ idiot of a brother.

“Fifteen years, and now is the perfect time to tell me, huh?” Hiro huffs, crossing his arms and pretending to look upset. “And here I thought you had something important to say.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Hooking an arm about Hiro’s waist, Tadashi pulls him in whether Hiro wants to be or not, lips pressing against his temple. “I still love you.”

Holding open the flap, Tadashi gently nudges Hiro inside before squeezing in after him. It’s a little tight, leading to even more laughter as Tadashi tries to squirm his way in. Hiro very much doubts they’ll be changing positions once they’re settled; Tadashi’s kneeling in the middle with Honey and Fred on either side, Wasabi off to the left and Hiro behind him, standing on the seat to be seen.

“If I have bunny ears in every photo, we’re watching The Room for a week, Hiro.” Tadashi warns from his spot on the floor, making them all titter.

“Please, give me _some_ credit,” Hiro smirks, nudging Tadashi in the back with his knee as Honey picks the right options and fiddles with the controls before she sits back, giggling.

“Okay! Cute to start, and then whoever calls out first picks the pose!” Grinning, she watches the timer tick down, fingers already held up in a vee. “Okay, _go!_ ”

Hiro’s still blinking the spots out of his eyes when Fred pipes up; _dragon pose,_ with his hands already curled into claws and mouth open obscenely wide. Rolling his eyes, Hiro cocks an eyebrow and puts on the most bored face he can muster, hands loosely clawed as he stares at the camera.

“Oooh, pig nose! Pig nose!” Honey shouts, giggling as she looks up, making Hiro laugh so hard he doesn’t even manage to make it in time before the camera goes off. The rest of the photos go in the same sequence; _fake like you’re being abducted. Driving down the highway like a baller. Tadashi, be an axe murderer…_

They’re a weird bunch, but Hiro can’t remember the last time he laughed so hard, and it’s with a little reluctance that he follows the group out of the photo booth and takes his little ribbon of pictures; he’s not the best at following instructions, but he looks happy in each snap, and that’s good enough.

“I’m framing these, oh my gosh,” Honey sighs happily as she opens her bag to place the pictures inside before fishing out her phone and checking the time. “And with that, I think I have to go; I promised my parent’s I’d babysit, so I need to beat traffic. Wasabi, d’you want a lift home?”

“Sure, if that’s okay with you…”

Gogo’s got her bike and Fred’s already got his ride on the way, so they all share a quick group hug before splitting up and leaving him and Tadashi alone. Sighing happily, Hiro nudges Tadashi with his shoulder before gesturing towards the door.

“Think we should head out, too? We could probably eat with Aunt Cass if we make it home before seven…”

“Mm, not just yet.” Tadashi purses his lips before shoving a hand into his pocket, counting out his change. With a grin, he pulls Hiro back to the photo booth, ducking under the flap and crouching down by the coin slot. “One more; just you and me this time.”

“Seriously? You’re being serious right now?”

“Dead serious.” Tadashi looks up to Hiro’s bemused expression, sticking out his lower lip. “Birthday boy, remember? It’s just some photos.”

Hiro rolls his eyes and sits himself down on the bench. Tadashi sits up next to him, tapping the screen and making a few selections. After a moment, he elbows Hiro in the side and drags him into his lap, arms loose around his waist and chin slotted over his shoulder.

“Anytime you want to stop looking like Mochi just dumped something dead in your lap, feel free.”

“Smartass.” Hiro laughs, and the timer goes off with a flash. The next two photos are snapped before Hiro can put any thought into schooling his expression; Tadashi seems to be focusing on pulling more laughter out of him by attacking his weak spots with all too clever fingers and cracking terrible jokes he knows Hiro will laugh at.

It’s all innocent fun and games up until Tadashi turns and presses his lips to Hiro’s cheek, holding him still as the light flashes, catching his brother’s affection on film forever.

For a moment, Hiro’s struck dumb; can’t move, can’t say a word. It’s not uncommon for Tadashi to kiss him; he’s been doing it a lot lately, innocent little pecks to his cheeks and forehead. But this is for a _photo._ It’s something that people could see and that’s _against the rules,_ the rules that Hiro has made for himself to keep them both safe from his own feelings.

Tadashi’s breaking the rules, and Hiro isn’t sure what he’s supposed to _do,_ when Tadashi’s got firm arms around his waist and is kissing his cheeks for a camera.

Hiro turns to stare at his brother, lips slightly parted and eyes wide.

“Tadashi…?” He murmurs, unsure of what to expect. This… this isn’t how it’s supposed to go, anymore. They’re _brothers,_ they have to be brothers, nothing more because it’s not enough, and Hiro can’t do it anymore, he _can’t-_

_**You can do this.** _

“Hiro…?” The second last photo goes off with a flash whilst neither of them are paying attention; but it’s not something worth worrying over. “You alright, Sparrow?”

Hiro leans into his brother’s hand, staring up at Tadashi just as much as he’s being stared at in return, and the camera flashes.

\------

“Aunt Cass, _please._ Please don’t leave me alone with him and that goddamn movie.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Cass soothes, combing her fingers through Hiro’s hair and pressing a kiss to his forehead, allowing him to ignore the sound of Tadashi humming happily to himself as he sets up the Blu-ray player. “I really don’t think I can watch this movie for the tenth year in a row.” Her voice is a staged whisper, and Hiro scoffs, mouth open to retort when Tadashi pipes up helpfully from the rug;

“You’re tearing him _apart,_ Aunt Cass!”

“You! Silence!” Hiro snaps over his shoulder, grabbing his hoody from the back of one of their dining room chairs and flinging it over his brother’s shaking shoulders. Turning back to Cass and putting on his best puppy dog eyes, Hiro tries again. “Aunt Cass, please…”

“Sorry Hiro, but Tadashi’s definitely cemented it for me; I’m going to bed.” Leaving one last kiss on his forehead, Cass waves over to Tadashi before making her escape to her bedroom and actually closing her bedroom door for the first time in Hiro’s living memory. For a moment, he’s rooted to the spot.

“...Can I go to bed too?” Hiro asks hopefully, turning back to see his brother already positioned on the couch, popcorn bowl in his lap and a supremely smug smile on his face.

“Nope. Park it, junior.”

“...Great.” True to his word, Tadashi starts the movie up the moment Hiro sits down, throwing an arm about his shoulders as the overly dramatic opening music begins to play, hugging him close.

“You act like I’ve made you watch this movie every year since you can remember.”

“You _have_ made me watch this movie every year since I can remember.” Hiro tells him grumpily, and Tadashi snorts, flicking a piece of popcorn at his cheek.

“Don’t be such a baby, baby. It’s nice to get some time with you.” Hiro stays quiet for the majority of the first act; he smiles and chuckles when Tadashi mimics the actors on screen, reading the script word-for-word with all the right character voices, but it’s barely a distraction from the way his thoughts endlessly circle in his mind.

Tadashi kissed him. Not a romantic, _actual_ kiss, but it was a kiss all the same. Even now, Tadashi’s arm is low around his waist, his forearm trapped between Hiro’s back and the cushions, fingers resting over the spur of his hip and tracing patterns every now and then until Tadashi seems to realise what he’s doing and suddenly stop.

He’s just… Hiro’s so _confused._ Are they brothers? Is this something more? All of this behaviour… is it new, or has Tadashi always touched him like this? Hiro knows that his brother is an affectionate person, but is the way he’s been acting with them the same way that he would act with Fred, or Gogo? Hiro’s certain he can’t remember Tadashi _ever_ putting his arms around Fred’s waist, nor would he ever kiss Gogo just because he could.

The thoughts keep circling, around and around until Hiro can’t sit like this anymore; he needs to get up, needs to do something with his hands, even if it’s only pour himself a glass of water. Tadashi’s terrible movie has never been able to distract him and it’s not managing very well now.

Leaning forward, Hiro attempts to push himself into standing as Tadashi fingers snag the back of his shirt.

“Hiro, come _on,”_ Tadashi whines, bottom lip pushed out into a pout. Hiro huffs, giving his brother a soft smile.

“I’m just getting a drink. I’ll come back, promise-”

“But we’re just up to the best part.” Leaning forward, he pulls Hiro back towards him, down into his lap as his eyes stay on the screen, breathing softly across the back of Hiro’s neck. “Relax, Sparrow. You can get a drink in a minute.”

“I…”

_I can’t. I can’t stay here like this with you. What do you want from me, what do you want for us, just tell me, I’m confused, I-_

“...I suppose I could hold on. Since it’s your birthday and everything.”

_I can do this. I can._

Taking a careful breath, Hiro attempts to force his limbs to relax, loosening his shoulders and trying to slump back into his brother’s chest. His breathing is fair too uneven, and he can feel his fingers twitching from where he holds them still in his lap. His whole body feels taut, like a piece of piano wire stretched out, close to snapping and hurting anyone unlucky enough to be close by.

Tadashi’s rocking him slightly. Murmuring soft words into his ear, into his hair; a mix of lines from the movie and his own attempts at comfort. He’s trying so hard for them, so hard…

Hiro just doesn’t know what _them_ is… and it’s only made worse when, in a completely thoughtless gesture, Tadashi brushes his lips over the back of Hiro’s neck; slow, gentle brushes of his lips, slightly parted and leaving light patches of damp in his wake.

Hiro’s back snaps straight, a quiet gasp falling from his lips, fingers curling around Tadashi’s wrists as his heartbeat suddenly _rockets._

“Tadashi...I...what’re you-?” Hiro attempts, voice broken and unsure. His stomach’s turning and his face is warm and he’s _never been so confused because Tadashi was just kissing his neck._

Tadashi freezes, lips breaking free of Hiro’s skin with a soft sound; his response, when it eventually comes, is quiet. Just as unsure. Barely heard under the sounds of Tommy Wiseau yelling, shaky and stumbling.

“I just- Hiro...is this okay?”

He’s unsure. He so, so unsure.

Not just unsure. Hiro’s afraid. He’s confused and frightened and sick and desperate and a million other emotions that he can’t name that stops his voice dead in his throat.

Tadashi’s saying nothing, but Hiro can feel a light tremble from his fingers against his stomach, his breath somewhat shaky against his neck.

“Hiro-” Tadashi starts, but Hiro cuts him off, turning in his brother’s arms as he snatches the TV remote from the arm of the couch and pauses the _fucking_ movie. Tadashi’s looking at him with a look of panic, and Hiro’s not certain he looks any better.

“You… you didn’t _want_ this,” Hiro whispers, eyes flicking over his brother’s face. “You didn’t want _me,_ you said- a mistake, it was all a mistake, I don’t understand, Tadashi, _please-”_

“Hey, _hey.”_ Tadashi hushes him quickly, glancing at the television before he helps Hiro up off his knees and carefully takes Hiro’s wrist, rubbing his thumb across his skin. Tadashi’s face is almost unreadable, and Hiro swallows, lip trembling as they part-

“I think we should go upstairs and talk, baby…” Tadashi says quietly, squeezing gently and applying a little pressure as he takes a slow step backwards, eyes still on Hiro’s face.

For a moment, Hiro’s not sure he can respond. Not sure if he even _wants_ to follow his brother to their bedroom and hear a brand new way for Tadashi to break his heart, and the refusal is on his tongue, it’s there, he’s not sure where he’ll go but he could, he-

_Do this._

“...Okay. ‘Kay, Dashi…” Hiro says softly, standing up and letting Tadashi lead him up the stairs, the back of his neck tingling from the press of his brother’s mouth and his eyes itching.

Screw scared.

Hiro’s terrified.

Rather than leading him to his side of the room, Tadashi guides Hiro to his own bed and pulls the desk chair over, sitting in front of him and meeting his eyes for all of a second before he can’t hold his gaze any longer. Hiro’s knees bounce, hands clenching and relaxing in his hands as he watches the top of Tadashi’s head, waiting; he opens his mouth to blurt something, _anything_ out when Tadashi starts talking, low and fast.

“I was scared, Hiro. When all of this started, you weren’t in a good place. I wasn’t in a good place. And I’m your brother- have been your older brother for years.” Tadashi swallows nervously, the sound dry as his throat bobs. “I looked at what was happening to you and how...every little thing I did drove you more into that place and I-- couldn’t. I couldn’t, baby. It was wrong. I had to do right by you.”

“But… but it wasn’t you,” Hiro stammers, head shaking from side to side as he listens, tries so very hard to listen to what his brother is saying because this is _big,_ this is breaking ground and opening doors and he needs to _listen._

“Tadashi, it wasn’t _you._ It’s never been you, all I wanted was an _us_ , after that club, after that first time, I wanted an _us-”_

“Breathe,” Tadashi says softly as he squeezes Hiro’s hands; Hiro sucks in a breath, cheeks red and eyes already glossed over with unshed tears. Tadashi shifts a little closer in his chair, leaning forwards so that Hiro’s the one looking down at him; it’s a strange feeling to be taller than his brother, and Hiro doesn’t like it.

“I know, love. I know that’s what you wanted, and I know- it wasn’t good. What was happening back then, if we’d...if it had all fallen together like you wanted, Hiro, it wouldn’t have been…”

Tadashi clears his throat, biting his lip. Hiro cocks his head, breath light and fast as Tadashi struggles to find the right words.

“I told you back then that I messed up, baby. And I did. I was stressed about so many different things, and you were finding out...what you liked in the world. It didn’t clash very well, huh?”

Hiro shakes his head, lip caught tight between his teeth in an attempt to keep his tears inside and treat this calmly; he’s gone straight to tears too many times in the past, and he needs a clear head because this is _huge._

“...Why now?” Hiro says softly, voice high and halting. “Why are you ready now? Are you ready- what do you want from _us,_ I don’t understand…? Tadashi, I don’t understand _anything.”_

“Because even when I think I’ve lost you, I find you.” Tadashi murmurs, looking up at him steadily. “No matter what happens, no matter how much we’ve been through together, or apart- it always comes back to this, baby. I’ve tried running. I’ve tried denying it, and that hasn’t been the right thing either. I’ve hurt you enough...I’ve hurt _us_ enough. I just want-”

He pauses, mouth partially opens as he struggles to find the words.

“I want...us. I want to figure it out. I want...I want you in my life. As more than you are now.” Tadashi rubs circles into the backs of Hiro’s hands, smile small and unsure when he looks up to meet Hiro’s eyes. “I’ve been wrong since day one, Hiro.”

“...Why?” Hiro breathes, head cocked slightly to the side as Tadashi raises his hand up to his lips and kisses his knuckles.

_“Just for tonight.”_ Tadashi closes his eyes, breathing slowly whilst Hiro holds his breath. “...One night was never enough.”

For once in his life, Hiro is speechless. There aren’t words in English, Japanese or in any language on the face of the earth that could explain how he’s feeling. Even his own thoughts can’t quite capture it; his own mind can’t quite believe that Tadashi is practically knelt on the floor in front of him, eyes like stars and staring up at him with nothing short of adoration which has been there since before Hiro can remember but has never tried to _look for and-_

I can do this.

But I… I don’t have to.

“...Say it,” Hiro whispers after a long pause, one side of his mouth crooked upwards, face open like a blank page with hope scribbled across his skin. “Tell me, Tadashi. Please. Let me hear you say it.”

Tadashi looks confused for a moment, eyebrows drawing together before it suddenly clicks and the clouds part, his eyes clearing of the storms that misted them before he’s leaning upwards, pressing his forehead to Hiro’s and cupping his cheek, thumb soft under his eyes as Hiro closes them, mouth open, _I’m ready-_

“I’m in love with you, Hiro. I’m so in love with you, baby…”

Hiro manages one, choked-off sob of pure _relief_ before he’s reaching out to wrap his arms around Tadashi’s neck and bringing their mouths together. It’s an embrace that Tadashi readily returns, capturing Hiro in his arms as they both slide straight down to the floor. The tears Hiro’s been so desperately trying to hold back fall and Tadashi hums soft in the back of his throat, clumsily raising his hands to Hiro’s cheeks to wipe them away without breaking contact. Hiro takes control of the kiss as Tadashi’s hands go from his cheeks to down at his waist, up again- holding Hiro steady, since he doesn’t seem capable of doing it for himself at the moment.

“I love you so much, Hiro,” Tadashi breathes between their lips. “I love you, baby- I’m so sorry. I put you through hell-”

“Ssh…” Hiro hums shakily as he pushes himself up onto his elbows and knees before lifting himself over Tadashi’s lap and settling down as best he can without breaking their kiss. “You came with me… you came with me, Teddy, I _dragged_ you there-”

“You didn’t-”

“Baby, I did,” Hiro tries, tasting the name on his tongue and revelling in the way Tadashi shudders, “-I did… but we made it out together, we did it… we can do anything, Tadashi, anything…”

“Together?” Tadashi pants, sitting up against the end of the bed and holding Hiro’s hips in his hands before squeezing to make Hiro gasp enough that Tadashi can slip his tongue into his mouth, making Hiro _keen_ before he can even think to get an answer out.

“Always.”

Tadashi closes his arms beneath Hiro’s ass, careful as he helps him crawl onto the mattress before following him up, laying his weight over Hiro’s, boxing him in and aligning them, chest and hip before bringing their lips back together, seemingly not content until he’s licked Hiro’s very essence from his mouth.

He’s being so _gentle,_ Hiro thinks dazedly as their lips move slowly together, clinging and soft; Tadashi brings Hiro’s thighs up on either side of his hips when it’s clear they’re shaking too much for Hiro to control, arching his back up into Hiro’s explorative hands as they push up beneath his shirt to trace over the warm skin of his back…

Hiro’s hips jut in half aborted motions that Tadashi completes by pushing him down into the mattress in a heavy roll that has Hiro gasping, head dropping back and gracing him with an expanse of skin to leave hot, open mouthed presses of his lips.

Tadashi slows when Hiro wants to rush. He makes each touch long and overwhelming instead of quick and fleeting. Tadashi’s words are exactly the same as his movements; words that are breathed into his skin, into his mouth before being chased by a hot tongue and hotter lips; fingers that leaves trails of sparks across his ribs as his shirt is pushed up and over his head-

Hiro’s never been treated like this; like his pleasure is something to savour, that any release will come slowly and will be enjoyed rather than the need to get it over with quickly, before anyone sees them. Aunt Cass is downstairs asleep but that doesn’t seem to factor into Tadashi’s desire to taste every inch of Hiro’s chest and stomach before the night is over.

“T’Dashi…” Hiro breathes, his panting taking on a vocal edge that he tries his best to swallow or muffle with his hand. His other grabs weakly at the neck of his brother’s Henley, tugging it upwards stubbornly as it gathers under his brother’s arms. Tadashi licks at Hiro’s navel before pulling back enough to pull the shirt up and over his head, throwing it aimlessly behind himself before he stops on his heels and just… looks. He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up from its usual neat style and Hiro feels his mouth go dry.

It’s not the first time but it feels _different;_ Hiro’s sober enough to see the appreciation in his brother’s eyes, the way his hands tremble with his need to touch and how could he have ever doubted on whether Tadashi was in love with him?

He should try and be alluring. Do something that will make Tadashi stir, moan, _anything…_ but in the end, he probably doesn’t need to. He’s enough. Sucking in a breath, Hiro holds out a hand for his brother to take, blinking slowly over his fingers as he removes his hands from his mouth.

“Everything… still okay?” Hiro murmurs.

“Perfect, baby.” Tadashi answers in a low voice, his words as heavy as his stare as Hiro bites his lower lip and reaches down to thread his fingers through Tadashi’s hair. Hiro’s pants are the next thing to go, slow and careful, leaving him almost bare. Leaving so much skin for Tadashi to appreciate. Hiro laughs breathlessly as a kiss is pressed his ankle and Tadashi slowly trailing kisses upwards, letting his teeth scrape lightly across the inside of his thigh. “You’re perfect.”

“Yeah?” Hiro’s voice cracks as Tadashi murmurs the words into his skin, close to the junction of hip and thigh, and it’s Tadashi’s turn to laugh breathily.

“Yeah, Hiro.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Hiro manages to murmur without laughing at how _cheesy_ he sounds. It’s far from the truth; Tadashi is gorgeous both inside and out, with his broad shoulders that have always looked better when bared, down to his trim waist and the delicate definition of his stomach.

Hiro attempts to touch with shaking fingers, but only manages to reach his brother’s jaw, cupping the sharp cut of bone and coaxing him back up to towards his mouth, sighing with contentment when his brother’s body is laid out over his once more, the rough texture of his jeans pressing into his bare legs and dragging against his thighs when Tadashi continues the slow roll of his hips from before.

“Can...can you take those off?” Hiro asks in between kisses, words pressed directly into his brother’s mouth from how deeply he’s being kissed. Tadashi blinks at him for a moment, head and eyes too foggy from lust before his grin turns wicked and he pushes back off of Hiro’s body, reaching down to undo his button and slowly lower the zipper of his jeans.

It should be sexy… but it’s not, and Hiro snorts before curling on his side and giggling helplessly to himself, curling his legs up as best he can and closing his eyes before he sees the look on Tadashi’s face.

“Why… why’re you laughing at me, brat?” Tadashi stammers as he shimmies out of his pants, grabbing at Hiro’s ankle and pulling his leg out so he can tickle the sole of his foot. “Answer, or revenge shall be swift.”

“No, _no Tadashi!”_ Hiro squeals, trying to tug his foot out of his brother’s grip as he twists like a fish caught on a line. “I’m sorry, it just- you’re my _brother._ You don’t need to try and be sexy for me, you’re… you’re everything I want, just as you are.” Tadashi slows, mouth slightly open as Hiro pushes himself up onto his hands and ducks his head a little to catch his brother’s eye. “I love you as you are, Tadashi. I always have.”

Tadashi exhales slowly, shrugging off his embarrassment in favour of capturing Hiro’s lips- he can’t embarrass himself further if he’s too busy pinning Hiro to the bed-- and Hiro can’t comment when he’s occupied with Tadashi licking the roof of his mouth. “Love you. Can’t...say that enough.”

“Can’t hear it enough,” Hiro replies on a breath as he kisses down his brother’s throat, hands massaging the muscle of his shoulders as he clings on for dear life as Tadashi’s hips keep up their slow roll; it’s the same as before, but _better;_ the heat is there, but Hiro can feel it on his skin rather than in the air; he can hear the sounds Tadashi is making over the sound of his own smoke-choked breath and the ringing of his ears as a result of overloud music. Everything is so much more in focus, and Hiro’s a little embarrassed at how hard he already is from kissing and a couple of heavy touches.

But this isn’t a stranger. This isn’t a drunken fumble. This is the prelude to making love with the only man he’s ever had feelings for and the only boy he’s ever wanted to take him to prom is right _here_ between his legs and is sucking the moans off his tongue and-

“-Happy. So happy you’re _here,_ Tadashi,” Hiro whimpers, voice high and crackly as his back straightens involuntarily as his brother tilts his hips just so and pushes. “‘Dashi I… please, I need you… _need you-”_

With fumbling hands, Hiro attempts to worm his fingers into the waistband of his brother’s underwear, fingers touching heated skin. Tipping his head back to try and catch Tadashi’s eyes, Hiro bites at his brother’s chin gently to get his attention.

“I want… can I...?” he murmurs, tugging more insistently at his brother’s underwear.

Tadashi groans, unabashedly stealing one more, hard kiss, leaving Hiro breathless as he sits up looking about the room as if what he needs will magically appear within his line of sight. “Baby...we need lube. Condoms.”

“I, um. I have that?” Hiro says slowly, cheeks reddening as Tadashi looks over him, biting his lip to keep in his giggles as Hiro stretches up to reach for his side-drawer. “Hey, I’m eighteen. I have… urges. Don’t look at me like that.” Pouting, Hiro pulls out the mostly full tube of jelly before throwing it at his brother and crossing his arms.

He’s pretty sure it’s hard to look annoyed when his dick is hard in his underwear and making a sizable tent in the fabric.

“I don’t have any condoms, though. Do we need them? I’ve… never been with anyone else.” Flicking his eyes up to Tadashi, Hiro sighs softly at the almost awed look he gets in response. “I’ve told you before… I’ve only ever wanted to be with you.”

“Oh baby,” Tadashi’s smile softens, sitting up and shifting off the bed. “Condoms are going to make it easier...and safer. Hang on a second.”

Hiro watches as Tadashi makes for his side of their room, cupping his dick in his hands as if that’ll somehow trick Hiro into thinking it doesn’t exist. He listens to his brother stumble around for a few moments, cursing under his breath before re-entering Hiro’s line of sight, box in one hand and his penis in the other. Hiro hides his laughter as a cough, looking up at Tadashi innocently and smiling sweetly.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Eighteen With Urges. I’m twenty-three.” Tadashi crawls back onto the bed, pecking Hiro’s nose. “Lay back for me, baby. We’re going to take this slow.”

“Slow?” Hiro asks incredulously, lifting his head up to watch Tadashi pull his underwear down his legs. “But…” Tadashi cocks a brow as he throws Hiro’s boxers off the bed before making short work of his own, smoothing his hands up Hiro’s thighs and making him shudder.

“But?” He encourages, pressing light kisses to Hiro’s hipbone. He swallows, lifting his hips a little to try and encourage his brother’s mouth more central.

“Won’t that be… boring?” Hiro tries, smiling sheepishly at the look Tadashi gives him. “I mean, getting to the orgasm is the best part…”

“You think so?” Tadashi doesn’t even try to hide his amused expression, guiding Hiro’s hips up so he can place a pillow under the small of his back. “Well, you’ll just have to trust me.” Kneeling back, Tadashi looks down at Hiro appreciatively as he reaches over for the lube. Hiro swallows nervously as he watches Tadashi smear lube over his fingers, rubbing them together to warm the water-based substance up. “Angle your hips up for me, baby. Try and relax.”

Hiro wordlessly does as he’s asked, bracing his feet on the mattress as he tilts his body. Tadashi gives him a soft smile before pressing a kiss to his kneecap, hand lowering between Hiro’s legs until he can’t see it and the first brush of his brother’s fingers against his entrance makes him twitch, mouth falling open around a gasp and his eyes almost fearful. 

“Hey… look at me, Sparrow,” Tadashi croons softly, somehow managing to stretch up between Hiro’s thighs so his can press a kiss to Hiro’s lax mouth. He can feel Tadashi’s body-heat radiating through the small places where they don’t touch, and Hiro feels the sudden tensing of his shoulders relax once more. He finds his brother’s eyes in the dim light, coffee-brown and just as warm as he presses their foreheads together, fingers curling over Tadashi’s shoulders. 

“I’m okay. I’m okay, Tadashi,” Hiro whispers against his brother’s lips, and Tadashi circles him once, twice, before pushing slowly into the heat of Hiro’s body, shushing him softly with croons and kisses when Hiro’s breathing becomes ragged. 

It doesn’t… hurt. It’s a small pressure, one that grows when his brother presses further in before retreating, not leaving Hiro alone for a second as he re-lubricates his finger and presses back inside, allowing Hiro the time to get used to the feeling and offering a _beautiful_ distraction in the form of sweet words and soft kisses. 

It doesn’t feel… good, though; not like it has before, when Hiro reflects on memories that are fuzzy and half in shadow, and he offers Tadashi a crooked smile as he pulls back a little to look at him. 

“Feels funny,” Hiro states, matter-of-fact as he wriggles slightly on his brother’s finger as Tadashi pushes up the first knuckle, making Hiro shiver. “Is that how it’s supposed to feel?”

“So long as it’s not hurting, I suppose so.” Tadashi adjusts carefully, letting his finger keep up a slow, constant pace. Up to the second knuckle, and out. Letting Hiro relax to it, letting him learn how it feels when Tadashi crooks his finger lightly, when he begins to draw gentle, barely there circles inside of him. 

Pausing for a moment, he distracts Hiro with open mouthed nips to his jaw, free hand drawing Hiro’s thigh upwards to work his finger that tiny bit deeper. “Just say the word, baby. Let me know when you feel ready for more.”

“M’ready, _M’so ready,_ ‘Dashi,” Hiro mutters, head lolling to the side as his brother nibbles down his neck, huffing out a small breath of laughter against Hiro’s collarbone before twisting his wrist and pushing inwards; Hiro’s back goes ramrod straight, eyes flying open as he squirms; he feels so _full…_

“Trying to rush, still?” Tadashi whispers into Hiro’s chest, looking up at him with a small smirk as he keeps each of his movements slow and steady, the movement of his finger regular and slow. Hiro whines softly, pushing back into his brother’s hand and forcing his finger deeper; Hiro swallows around the strangeness before grabbing Tadashi’s hair and tugging lightly. 

“...More?” He asks, one eye open from where he’s flopped against his pillows, legs bent and lower half completely exposed to his brother’s appreciative gaze. He wonders if he should feel like he’s under scrutiny from the way Tadashi’s eyes follow the line of his chest, down over his hips and legs and back up to his face. 

All Hiro feels is safe. 

Tadashi withdraws completely, and Hiro makes an inquisitive noise at the loss. Tadashi shushes him softly, pressing his mouth to Hiro’s thigh before the pressure returns, _bigger_ and almost too much when Tadashi presses a second finger alongside his first. 

“Oh, _god,”_ Hiro whimpers, bringing his hand up to his mouth to cover any sounds he might make as Tadashi’s fingers press in and out of his body, the drag almost rough and hard and _exquisite._

“Shh, baby…” Tadashi soothes, brow creasing. He withdraws his fingers in spite of Hiro’s muffled whine of protest. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” Tadashi leans back, eyes lowered and watching what he’s doing; Hiro’s thighs visibly tense as his fingers disappear inside of him, and _god-_

“You okay?” His voice is strained, a little breathless.

Hiro hums, not trusting himself to make words as he pushes back more earnestly into his brother’s touch, hips rolling and twitching in response to his brother’s gentle hand. Tadashi seems to be affected, too, although Hiro’s hands are currently fisted in his sheets and his own hair; his brother isn’t even being _touched,_ but his breath is heavy, and his hand shakes from where it’s pressed to Hiro’s hipbone, helping direct the rocking of his hips into something more controlled. 

“T’dashi-” Hiro whines, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth when he feels his brother moving his fingers, scissoring gently to help loosen Hiro’s tense muscles and it’s _working;_ he feels pliant under his brother’s caring hands, easily molded and sculpted into something golden, something wonderful and filled and loved and- 

_Shitfuckitycrap **damn.**_

Hiro’s been _electrocuted._ He isn’t sure how, but his brother has done something to set his nerves on fire, racing through his muscles and licking places inside he didn’t even know he had as he half-sits, hand flying to his lips as he moans into the palm of his hand, legs trembling around his brother’s waist as Tadashi stops, fingers still inside him as he catches Hiro’s eyes and _smirks._

“What- did you _do?”_ Hiro manages to ask, body still shaking from the aftershocks of the brief flash-fire. “That was- Teddy-” 

“Good, baby?” Tadashi murmurs, lips turned up into a more gentle smile as he leans forwards enough for Hiro to kiss him, hungry and pathetic and _needy._ Hiro whines softly, pulling at his brother’s wrist with his free hand because he needs it, he _needs_ that feeling of fire again, it was indescribable, it- 

Tadashi chuckles, twists his wrist just _so,_ and Hiro bites his palm to keep his sounds in. “More?” He whispers after Hiro stops seeing flashing colours. He doesn’t even have the voice to answer, he just nods, chest heaving, nipping distractedly at Tadashi’s lips as his brother works his fingers over with more lube.

Tadashi’s gentle as he teases Hiro’s entrance with two fingers, slowly adding the third and letting it rest at the third knuckle before making Hiro take more. Biting his lip, Hiro slowly presses back onto his brother’s hand, throat scratchy and voice low. Tadashi whispers quietly as Hiro tenses, calm and encouraging.

“You’re okay, baby. Nice and slow…”

Hiro’s more than okay; he feels almost _euphoric,_ from the way Tadashi is touching him to the sound of Tadashi’s voice; his brother’s breath is on his skin and in his hair and when Hiro licks his lips he can still taste Tadashi, lingering, and it’s- 

It’s more than he ever thought he would have of his brother. More than he probably deserves. 

Tadashi seems to take Hiro’s panting breath and star-like gaze to push forwards, tinging Hiro’s pleasure with a little discomfort as the thickness of his fingers widens Hiro’s entrance to the point of almost pain, and he winces when Tadashi pulls back out again. 

He notices; of _course_ he does, leaning forward to kiss, to soothe and distract; lube is _everywhere,_ smeared up the backs of Hiro’s thighs and across his ass as Tadashi squirts more, trying his best to make every movement smooth as he circles his spare hand around Hiro’s dick and palms him, long and tight and in time with the movements of his fingers. 

Hiro feels like crying; his entire body is wracked with shivers, his pleasure pulsing through his body in time with his heartbeat and throughout it all, Tadashi’s talking to him; quiet, whispered words meant only for _them,_ quiet in Hiro’s hair, against his stomach, the inside of his thighs. These small, insignificant places of himself that will carry Tadashi’s whispered adoration for the rest of his life. 

“...Tadashi.” Hiro’s words shake, breathless and weak as his body rocks slowly from his brother’s ministrations, the sheets crumpled up around his shoulders. 

“Hiro? Baby, what is it?” Tadashi’s voice is just as hoarse, his eyes bleary as he finds Hiro’s gaze. 

“You love me?” Tadashi sighs, resting his cheek on Hiro’s knee, smile as soft and bright as a spring morning. 

“I love you, Hiro.” 

“You’re in love with me?” 

“I am, baby. I really am.” 

“Then I’m ready, ‘Dashi.” Tadashi pauses for a few seconds, eyes wide before he exhales roughly and nods his head. 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay baby.” Tadashi’s hands fumble with the condom wrapper, lube making it impossible to grip, and attempting to tear into it sends the small packet flying into his face, jerking back with a startled noise as Hiro chokes on laughter. “Hilarious, sure. Laugh it up, Hiro.” 

“Smooth, Teddy. Really smooth. Catch me, quick, I’m _swooning.”_

“You’ll be swooning in a second.” Tadashi threatens, his grin ruining the overall effect of his words as he tears the packet open with his teeth. He leans back to roll the condom on, fingers still clumsy. He moves in close, guiding Hiro’s legs to settle on either side of his waist and gripping the backs of his thighs to pull them closer. 

Hiro jumps outright when Tadashi presses up against him, and any remnants of a smirk is gone.

“Hiro.” Gorgeous eyes meet his own, and Tadashi sighs softly before nosing at his cheek. “I love you.”

“...I know you do, ‘Dashi,” Hiro breathes back, willing his body to relax as he holds his brother’s gaze. “I believe you.” 

Despite Tadashi’s careful and gentle preparations, the first initial push _hurts,_ and Hiro gasps wetly as he reaches blindly for his brother, fingers clawing into his skin. Tadashi hisses too, Hiro’s clenching muscles causing him discomfort and for a long moment, Hiro’s certain it’s not going to work. 

“‘Dashi, I-” Hiro grits out, his fingernails leaving small crescents in the backs of his brother’s forearms. Tadashi lets go of his thigh and leans forward to pull Hiro’s shaking body into his arms, fingers combing through his hair as he shushes softly against Hiro’s forehead. 

“It’s okay, baby… just breathe, breathe for me, relax…” 

“...So _big,”_ Hiro whines, wriggling against the intrusion of his brother’s flesh, trying to breathe through the feeling; he _wants_ this, wants to share this with his brother, wants to be lit up from inside but even as Tadashi pulls out and pushes back in so torturously slow, Hiro bites his lip red to stop himself from releasing pained noises into the air. 

Tadashi, bless him, bless _all_ of him, rains kisses on Hiro’s cheeks and forehead, hand stroking over his flagging erection, doing everything he can to help ease Hiro’s discomfort. Minutes tick past as Hiro tilts his face upwards, depositing small whimpers into his brother’s mouth as he rocks his hips into the circle of Tadashi’s fist, pushing up into his palm and back onto his dick, the mix of pleasure and pain strange until something _clicks_ and Hiro blinks, bemused. 

It doesn’t… hurt. There’s still a sense of being filled, but there’s no pain, and when he pushes back onto his brother’s length, there’s the muted sense of _fireworks_ once more than makes his mouth fall open and his back arch. 

“I’m… I’m okay, Tadashi,” Hiro whispers, curling his arms around his brother’s neck, words hot and moist between their lips as Hiro licks the taste out of his brother’s mouth. “Feels… good. Different, but good. Please, I...I think I _need_ you…”

“...Okay, baby,” Tadashi breathes back as he eases Hiro into the pillows. He doesn’t thrust so much as press their hips together, turning the motions from minute rocking into shallow rolls that barely have him moving more than an inch out of Hiro before he’s pressing back in. 

Hiro’s nails dig into Tadashi’s shoulders, strands of hair sticking to his temples and eyes glazed over, lost in the sensations he’s feeling. Hiro manages to come back to himself at the sound of Tadashi _groaning,_ low in his throat and guttural.

“Baby, I need to move,” Tadashi growls, hands leaving fingerprints on Hiro’s hipbones and that’s _it._

“Move, Tadashi, _move, god,_ I need you to, please-” Hiro babbles, tightening his hold around Tadashi’s neck as his older brother makes a long, low sound before mashing their lips together to deaden their noise as he pulls back and _thrusts_ in, the movement making Hiro’s back slip a few inches up the bed and his throat constrict around a squeak because _god_ Tadashi’s strong, and he’d forgotten- 

Tadashi’s face is screwed up, biting his lip to keep in his own moans as he holds him in place so he can drive into Hiro’s body. Each stroke is long and slow, his hips fitting snug against Hiro’s ass before pulling away, deep and filling and so satisfying. 

Hiro’s hands are covered in his own teeth-marks, fingers baring the brunt of his bites as he tries to stay silent- _god,_ does he try- and Tadashi speeds up, thrusts swapping depth for speed; his brow is sweaty, eyes black with lust and his limbs are shaking from how hard he’s holding Hiro, how much he’s giving to insure Hiro is pleasured. 

“Tadashi…” Hiro hiccups, legs clenching around his brother’s waist, chest rising and falling with his own rough breathing. “Let me… let me try-” 

Hiro prods at his brother’s side, unwrapping his long limbs from around Tadashi’s body and getting up shakily before pushing Tadashi into the mattress, whining when his dick slips from his own body. Hiro manages to lift his leg over his brother’s hips, straddling him before reaching behind himself for his brother’s length, lining them up before lowering himself onto Tadashi’s dick. 

“Oh _shit!”_ Hiro yelps, hands immediately wrapped over his mouth as he freezes, body shaking from how deep Tadashi’s cock is inside of him; his own body weight and gravity have the head of his brother brushing up against that spot inside of him, shooting sparks down his spine as Hiro quakes, holding his brother’s eyes. 

_Let me move. Please, Tadashi; let me move._

“-Hey hey hey, not like that,” Tadashi hisses, gripping Hiro’s hips tightly and pulling him up. “Just- slow, baby. Slow.” He guides Hiro down, hands cupping his ass to ensure Hiro’s not falling straight onto him, helping him get used to the motion. “Steady, gorgeous. You got this…”

Hiro’s hands rest on Tadashi’s chest to help himself keep his balance and Tadashi doesn’t complain at the pressure. He keeps eye contact, smile strained as he keeps himself as still as he can manage. 

Tadashi’s hands drift upwards, thumbs smoothing across Hiro’s hips before trailing over his cock, words almost too husky to make out. “You got this.”

“Mmm,” Hiro moans, thighs shaking as he pushes himself up and down in little bobs of hips, mouth open and eyes glazed as his brother’s cock now slips in and out of him easily, the lube used easing the way and making Hiro’s skin tingle. By leaning forward just a little, he can _almost_ find the spot that he had before… 

Whining low in his throat, Hiro trembles as his brother’s hand comes into contact with his dick, fingers thick and calloused and wonderful against his skin, giving Hiro something to thrust into and press back against once more. 

“Feel- good,” Hiro stammers, words slurring and low as the sound of their skin slapping together on each thrust meets his ears, making his stomach knot at how primal it is. “Feels so _good,_ ‘Dashi… I love you. I love you so- _ah!”_

Got it. Holy shit he’s _got it, right there,_ and Hiro bites his lip once more as he fucks himself over and over on his brother’s dick, the head rubbing against his prostate on each downward thrust and making him see stars. 

Hiro can hear himself babbling over the sound of his blood rushing through his ears, _I love you, I love you;_ like a broken record, Hiro spills his adoration for his brother over his chest, revelling in the touch of his brother’s hand and the weight of his gaze, feeling almost invincible when he begins to hear Tadashi’s own quiet sounds of pleasure joining his murmured confessions… 

He’s close. He’s so close.

“Come on, baby.” Tadashi urges, voice a ragged pant. “Come on. Do it for me. I need to see you-”

Hiro practically sobs at Tadashi’s words, his entire body writhing, so caught up in his own pleasure that he nearly _screams_ when he feels the edge of his release. Tadashi’s there- _he’s always going to be there-_ to catch him as he falls, slotting their mouths together to swallow Hiro’s moans, hand pressed to the small of his back to hold him still as his come paints lines over Tadashi’s stomach and torso. 

Pleasure courses through Hiro, wave after wave as he rides out the aftershocks in his brother’s arms, slumped against his chest as Tadashi bends his knees and thrusts sloppily into Hiro’s body, the new angle rubbing his now sensitive walls and milking him for all he’s worth as Tadashi clamps his mouth over Hiro’s shoulder and _bites,_ body trembling as he empties into Hiro’s body. For a couple of moments, they lie together trembling, sweat and come drying in the cool air of their bedroom, hands slow as they coax each-other back from the edge. 

And then it’s over. 

\------

_Eventually, Tadashi manages to pull himself off the bed long enough to dispose of...things, returning with a warm washcloth to help soothe away any remnants of their activities from Hiro’s skin. His lips follow, a trail of butterfly kisses that gain soft sighs from Hiro’s pliant form, lips curving into a smile against his skin._

_They still have plenty to talk about. But for now, it’s still his birthday, and if the birthday boy decides that all he wants to do is gather Hiro into his arms and settle under the covers, then that’s precisely what they’ll do. It’s an easy, quiet transition, Hiro’s head cushioned on his chest as he runs his fingers gently through his damp hair, marvelling at the texture._

_Marvelling over him._

_He had his reasons for running away from this. Good reasons, he’d assumed. Valid even now; things to address with Hiro tomorrow, when his little love isn’t half asleep, legs tangled together, the both of them naked beneath the sheets. He can’t recall if the bed creaked, or if they were too loud._

_Aunt Cass would have been up here by now, if they had been._

_“‘Dashi?”_

_“Yeah, baby?”_

_“I love you.” Hiro says quietly, and Tadashi’s lips curve into a smile, lifting his head to press a kiss to the crown of Hiro’s head._

_“I love you too.”_

_His chest is wet. It’s not sweat. Hiro doesn’t say another word, curling all the closer, the slightest of tremors wracking his frame, but Tadashi knows, and he understands. He doesn’t stop the tears this time, just keeps his arm about the young man’s waist, fingers still carding through his hair._

_For the first time in a long time, Tadashi knows what to say. Breathed into Hiro’s hair, pulling an audible sob from his little brother; choked and relieved._

_“Get some rest, Sparrow. I’ll be right here in the morning.”_

_“Do you promise?” Hiro sniffles, turning his face so his ear is pressed to Tadashi’s chest._

_“I promise.”_

_He has nothing to run from. Not anymore._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annie: Ta-daaaaah. >:3c
> 
> Bird: Anyone who notices the Fic referenced in this fic gets a cookie. 
> 
> Thank you, everyone!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Love Bites](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3622341) by [thehomodabrothers (orphan_account)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thehomodabrothers)




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